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The Road Not Taken (The Daddy Diaries) Page 11


  Whereas the Wendells dressed for dinner even if it was being served in their own dining room, the McCabes didn’t stand on formality. Jillian had insisted on wearing the frilly pink frock Bonnie had brought for Mass, making Caro feel less self-conscious. They hadn’t been able to go, of course.

  Had Truman and Susan made it to church? If so, Caro imagined that poor Cabot fidgeted from beginning to end. He rarely could sit through the hour-long service, anyway. Add in the thought of the treats and toys waiting for him back home, and he’d never be able to remain still.

  “You’re smiling,” Jake remarked.

  “I’m thinking about Cabot. If Truman and his mother somehow made it to church today, I’m sure he was all over the pew, especially if he managed to filch a few jelly beans from his basket ahead of time.”

  “That’s kids. I swear Riley and Jillian can’t go five minutes without jumping or skipping or hopping on one foot. They need to be doing something at all times.”

  Her expression dimmed a bit. “They’d never remember to bring a book or small toy to occupy him. My mother-in-law claims that Truman could sit through the service as still as a soldier by the time he was out of diapers.”

  “A couple doses of cold medicine and every kid can do that.”

  Caro chuckled.

  “What’s he like?”

  “Cabot?”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Well, he’s funny and sweet, and the cutest child ever born, of course.”

  “The most intelligent, too,” he added for her benefit.

  “So, you’ve read the advertisement I took out in the national newspapers.” Caro laughed. “But seriously, he is very bright. I think he might be reading before he begins kindergarten. And he has a great sense of humor for such a little person. I love to hear his laughter.”

  Recalling it now, her mood turned melancholy.

  “It will all work out.”

  “I wish I could be so certain.”

  “You’re not helpless, Caro. You yourself told me that within five minutes of our meeting,” he reminded her. “And you were stranded in a snowstorm at the time and closing in on frostbite.”

  “Thanks,” she said sincerely.

  “For what?”

  “Reminding me of that.” Even so, she closed her eyes. “God, Jake, I’m so confused.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. These unexpected feelings she had for him certainly complicated matters. But what she said aloud was, “I’d resigned myself to going back, to making do and not fighting Truman and his mother for custody because I didn’t have the resources.”

  “Then I guess I’ve given you something to think about.”

  In fact, Jake thought, he’d given them both something to think about, especially since altruism wasn’t his main motive for offering assistance.

  Sure, he didn’t want to see Caro forced to return to the husband she’d left and obviously didn’t love any longer. From what she’d said, it was debatable that she’d loved him in the first place. The man had preyed on her vulnerability, taken advantage of her grief. It wasn’t right that she should have to return to him and live under her mother-in-law’s thumb if she wanted to be near her child.

  What kind of life was that for her? What kind of life was that for her son?

  But other factors came into play, too. The most damning one was that Jake couldn’t stand the thought of her with another man, even if that man was legally her husband.

  He was past the point of questioning his attraction to Caro or how quickly things between them had blossomed. His father once told him that he knew the moment he spotted Doreen at a college party that she was the girl for him. Forty years later, no one could doubt the authenticity of their feelings.

  But his father had been at a point in his life where he’d wanted and been ready to settle down. Jake couldn’t say the same. His life was in chaos, every bit as broken-down and ramshackle as the inn he was restoring. What did he have to offer Caro beyond the financial means to mount a first-rate custody battle?

  What did he want to offer her?

  She wasn’t the only one who was confused.

  Jake had spent more than a year immersed in anger and pain, reeling first from the police department’s betrayal and then from Miranda’s. For the first time in a very long time he didn’t want to hide away in Vermont—and, yeah, Dean was right; that that was what Jake had been doing.

  Now, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Go back to Buffalo and restore his good name? Maybe return to police work there or in a suburban community? Or stay in Vermont and finish the inn, maybe even stick around long enough to see it opened?

  He’d be closer to Caro here. And as far away as ever if she chose to stay married to Truman.

  “Even if I hire a top-of-the-line lawyer, I could lose custody of Cabot,” she was saying.

  “Yes. You could.” He wouldn’t lie to her. He reached for her hand on the table and rubbed the work-roughened pad of his thumb over her smooth skin. “You have to decide if the risk is worth it.”

  The same went for him.

  The children were already asleep when the power came back on later that evening. Between playing in the fresh air and a big meal, they’d petered out even before their regular bedtime arrived.

  Riley nodded off in front of the fireplace as he listened to their grandfather read them a story. Jillian grew heavy-eyed soon after and put up only token protest when her mother told her to kiss her grandparents, father and uncle good-night.

  The little girl melted Caro’s heart when she included her in the ritual.

  After kissing her cheek, Jillian said, “I’m glad you got stuck in the snow by us, Caro.”

  “I am, too.”

  “You’re a lot of fun for a grown-up, even if you aren’t the best shot with a snowball.”

  “My technique needs work,” Caro agreed in sham seriousness. “Maybe you can give me some pointers tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” With her arms still wrapped around Caro’s waist, Jillian added, “You know, if you married my uncle Jake, you’d be part of our family and we would see each other again.”

  Bonnie coughed. “Jilly.”

  “What, Mommy? Isn’t that how Miranda became my aunt?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “See.” The little girl grinned and then added innocently, “Miranda and Uncle Jake aren’t married now, which means he can marry you. I already like you better than I liked Miranda. She said me and Riley gave her migraines.”

  Not knowing what else to say, Caro replied, “Some adults are prone to those.”

  “I heard Mommy tell Daddy once that she had a cure for Miranda’s headaches. A swift kick in—”

  Bonnie clapped a hand over her daughter’s mouth to keep her from finishing. Dean, meanwhile, sat on the couch cackling like a loon. Jake said nothing, but for just a moment he’d looked as if he might join in his brother’s laughter.

  “And on that note we’re out of here,” Bonnie said. “Good night everyone. I may or may not be back down after the kids are tucked in.”

  She sent an apologetic smile in Jake’s direction.

  “I’ll carry Riley up for you,” he said. “You go on ahead with the flashlight.”

  It was his way of smoothing out an awkward situation. Bonnie smiled gratefully.

  The lights flickered on a few minutes later as Jake returned from upstairs. The living room’s occupants sent up a cheer.

  “Now we can check the news for road conditions and travel information,” Doreen said pragmatically.

  Their return flight to Buffalo was scheduled for the next evening.

  “Forget about road conditions and travel information,” Martin piped up. He’d already found the television remote and had turned on the set. “There’s a hockey game on.”

  “Who’s Buffalo playing?” Jake asked.

  “Toronto,” Dean supplied.

  “Ooh, this should be good.” He rubbed his
hands together and hunkered down on the couch next to Dean. “Did you see that hit their linesman put on Buffalo’s center the last time the teams met?”

  Dean nodded. “They’re going to be out for blood.”

  With her hands on her hips, Doreen sighed. “Twenty minutes, Martin. And no more.”

  Buffalo was up by three goals against Toronto before Doreen finally wrested the remote from her husband’s hands and switched it to The Weather Channel to catch the local forecast, which included a segment on current travel conditions.

  “It looks like the airport is reporting delays, but at least it’s open for business. It sounds like we might get out of here tomorrow after all.” Doreen smiled at Caro. “And the main roads should be passable.”

  Which meant she would be on her way soon, too, assuming her car was drivable. “That’s wonderful news.”

  She missed Cabot desperately, and Truman had made it clear that she had only one week to arrive in Burlington. But Caro was no longer quite so eager to be on her way. She understood why when her gaze connected with Jake’s. His expression was not quite so guarded that she couldn’t see the interest there.

  The next day dawned as sunny as the previous one had. Caro was up early, determined not to be the last one downstairs again. She needn’t have worried. Bonnie and Dean were the late-risers on this morning, looking suspiciously smug and satisfied as they came downstairs long after their children had awoken and been handed off to Grandma and Grandpa.

  Caro might have found the couple’s sly smiles and stolen glances sweet and romantic if she weren’t steeped in sexual frustration.

  The phone lines were still down, but around noon Orville Gray, the owner of the garage Caro had contacted, arrived at the inn courtesy of a high-riding, four-wheel-drive vehicle that would have been right at home at a monster-truck rally.

  The good news? Her car would be towed to his garage for repairs. The bad news? He wasn’t sure he had all the parts in stock that he needed.

  “I can order them. But it could be a few days before I can get them,” he told her.

  “A few days?” Caro’s heart bucked. Technically, she had the time. Truman wasn’t expecting her until the end of the week. But she was eager to see her son. They’d already been separated for too long. And there was the not-so-small matter that Jake’s family would be on their way today. Tonight, it would be just the two of them in the big, empty inn. “Isn’t there anything you can do to get me on the road sooner?”

  Orville plucked at one of the ends of his handlebar mustache. “Sorry, young lady. That’s an older-model car and an import at that. I don’t keep those parts in stock.”

  “I can take you to Burlington, Caro.”

  “No. I can’t ask you to do that. Your family is here.”

  “They’re leaving this afternoon. We can head out first thing in the morning. And, for the record, you didn’t ask. I offered. I told you the first night you were here that if you couldn’t get to where you needed to be by the time you needed to be there, I would take you myself.”

  She nodded, recalling his words. She’d been desperate then. She felt desperate now for an additional reason. They were losing their chaperones.

  The McCabes had a late-afternoon flight out of Montpelier’s airport, which was a good thing since the airport in Burlington was still closed. The storm had hit that community far harder, in part because of its proximity to Lake Champlain. Indeed, the roads in Burlington remained in bad shape and people there were being advised not to drive on them unless necessary, leaving her to wonder if she and Jake would be heading out first thing in the morning after all.

  Caro bid his family farewell and then stood out of the way as the McCabes said their goodbyes to Jake. They didn’t indulge in the sterile air kisses the Wendells did. No, they grabbed hold of one another in fierce embraces. Kisses were exchanged. Backs slapped or patted. Promises elicited from Jake that he would come back to Buffalo for a visit soon.

  “You’re always welcome here,” he reminded his parents afterward as Doreen dabbed at her moist eyes.

  Martin nodded. “We know that. And don’t think Mom and I won’t come. We’re happy to.”

  “Good.” Jake’s eyes were bright, as well.

  Martin rested one of his big hands on Jake’s shoulder. “If you want to stay here, if you think you can be happy here, then your mother and I are behind you one hundred percent, son. But no matter what some people have made you believe, you’ll always have a place in Buffalo.”

  “Yeah! You can live with us, Uncle Jake,” Jilly offered excitedly.

  Not to be outdone by his sister’s spontaneous invitation, Riley piped up with, “I want bunk beds in my room. If you come to live with us, Uncle Jake, I’ll get Daddy to buy them and you can have the top one.”

  The offer had all of the adults laughing. Dean was the first to speak.

  “You’d have to pay rent of course.”

  “And cook and clean every other week,” Bonnie inserted.

  “Gee, you make it sound so tempting,” Jake grumbled good-naturedly.

  “First week is free of charge,” Dean replied. He grew serious when he continued. “You know Bonnie and I would love to have you. For a week … for longer.”

  Jake swallowed and nodded. “I know. Thanks.”

  Caro felt a lump form in her own throat as she watched the brothers embrace.

  Bonnie wrapped Jake in another hug. “We aren’t going to wilt under a little gossip. And just let a reporter ambush me again outside Jilly’s dance studio. He’ll be singing soprano afterward.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Doreen embraced him for a second time, too. Because Caro was missing her own son, she understood the ache in his mother’s heart. “Be happy—whether here, in Buffalo or in Timbuktu. That’s all I want for you. I just want you whole again.”

  “I’m getting there, Mom. I’m getting there.”

  She pulled back and bracketed his face in her hands. Her expression brightened.

  “Before this weekend, I wasn’t so sure. But now, I think so, too.”

  With that they filed out. Caro stood outside with him. As the rented, four-wheel-drive SUV pressed through the snow, she discreetly wiped away a tear. They were good people, kind people, and she’d treasured her time with them.

  It should have felt awkward, she thought, standing on the front porch with Jake and waving goodbye as the vehicle drove away. But it felt right somehow. Indeed, for the first time since her parents’ death, she could honestly say she felt as if she truly belonged somewhere. If only Cabot was here, she thought wistfully. Then it would be perfect.

  “You have an amazing family.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve missed them.”

  “And they’ve missed you. That much is obvious,” she remarked innocently.

  So it came as a surprise when his shoulders stiffened and he said defensively, “I’ve done what I’ve done to protect them, Caro.”

  “I’m not criticizing.” She backed up a step before stopping, holding firm. “I know you see it that way, but they don’t, Jake.” She rested a hand on his arm. “They just miss you. They’re concerned and confused. Have you told them half the things you’ve told me?”

  “I … I … That’s not fair. I told you, you’re easy to talk to.”

  Just as she thought. “What’s not fair is keeping them in the dark. They will support you no matter what. They said as much just now.”

  “What would you have me do, Caro?” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

  “It’s not my place—”

  “Oh, no. No you don’t. Don’t back down now.”

  “Okay, I think you should share more of your feelings with your family members, especially your parents. And I think you should go back to Buffalo and, I don’t know, hold a press conference or whatever, and try to either clear your name or at least publicly offer your version of events. Express your sorrow. You’ve done that with me. And explain that you went to the addr
ess you were given. Yes, a mistake was made, and lives were lost and changed forever as a result of it. It’s admirable for you to take responsibility. I’m not asking you to try to pass the buck. I don’t think that’s what your family wants, either. They simply don’t want to see you crucified unjustly and run out of town.”

  “I wasn’t run out of town. I left of my own accord.”

  “Did you? It sounded to me like you left Buffalo because you felt you had no other choice. That’s not exactly the same as operating under your own free will. Believe me, I know.”

  His emotions simmering, Jake stalked a few paces away. What she said wasn’t outrageous or even much different from what Dean and his father had told him on countless occasions. They felt he’d been shoved under the bus as a result of political expediency.

  “Why does this matter to you, Caro?” he asked, deciding to lay out his cards. “You’ve got enough on your plate to deal with.”

  “That’s true enough. But …”

  “But what?” He moved closer, crowding her space.

  She didn’t retreat. She held her ground and earned a little more of his respect and admiration when she poked him in the chest and declared, “I care about you, Jake. All right? I … care.”

  With those words, issued in an earnest tone, she took the wind right out of his sails.

  What remained of his anger evaporated just that quickly and his heart squeezed, although why, he wasn’t completely sure. Hell, when one got right down to it, care was a pretty tepid word. Under other circumstances and coming from another woman, it might have barely rated an eye roll. But Caro’s expression, which was both challenging and sincere, made the otherwise pedestrian comment seem far more meaningful.

  He cupped her cheek, resisted the strong urge to pull her into his arms for a kiss. “You would have stuck,” he said slowly, thinking that despite all of the ugliness that went on back in Buffalo, she would have stood by his side.

  Caro blinked in confusion.

  “Never mind.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, before turning to go back inside. “I care about you, too.”