Page 48 of Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fee quietly seethed. How dare his family see her as nothing more than a convenient female to bring their miserable son back to life. She’d been walking towards the bathroom when she heard her name mentioned. The old adage about listeners hearing no good of themselves was true. In Fee’s mind the worst part was the fact Tom hadn’t said anything to defend her.
She sensed him sneak glances at her at regular intervals but he wasn’t dumb enough to start an argument on these treacherous roads.
‘I don’t know about you but I’m ready for an early night.’ Tom’s casual air riled her but she refused to let on.
‘Me too. I enjoyed meeting your family but I’ve had enough company for one day.’
Without a word he slowed the truck downto take the last turn into Black Cherry. Fee held her tongue as he drove past his own cabin and brought the truck to an abrupt stop outside hers.
‘Are you gonna tell me what’s bugging you?’ Tom’s quiet voice didn’t fool her. Fee caught the sliver of anger running through his words.
‘We’re happy to see you smiling again and if a woman did the trick good on you.’ As she repeatedhis father’s words the colour drained from Tom’s face. ‘I’m glad to have served a useful purpose.’ The instant she spoke Fee would have bitten off her tongue if she could.
‘I’m not gonna sit here and listen to you trash my family. They’re good, decent people who welcomed you into their home and don’t deserve your scorn. I might, but they don’t. Let’s go inside and sort this out once andfor all,’ Tom challenged.
‘I honestly am tired.’ Fee wasn’t lying and hoped he’d at least understand that much. ‘How about we leave this until the morning?’
‘It’s your choice. I hopeyousleep well.’ His restraint was far more intimidating than being shouted and yelled at. If she didn’t get away now she’d be tempted to soften towards him.
Fee reached for the door handleand for the first time he didn’t run around to open it for her. She made her way towards the cabin steps and didn’t dare to turn back around as she unlocked the door. Once she stepped inside Fee allowed herself to breathe again. She couldn’t allow herself to think any more tonight or she’d go crazy. Slowly she got ready for bed and crawled in between the cold sheets, shut her eyes and hoped thingswould look better in the morning. It couldn’t be much worse.
At three in the morning her insomnia returned with a vengeance and she dragged herself out of bed to make a mug of chamomile tea while craving good, strong coffee. She snuggled into a corner of the sofa and tucked a soft, red blanket around her cold legs, struggling not to think about how she could have been cuddled up in Tom’sbed instead. Everything about him was so solid andthere. There was no pretence. No false front.Why’d you get so mad at him then?He’d never made any promises or asked her for any.Did you want him to?Ever since Pierre’s betrayal she’d been scrupulous about not letting herself get away with personal dishonesty.
You don’t seriously think she’s going to give up a top-notch career to buryherself in small town America surely? Or that I’d ever consider marrying again?
Why did his casual dismissal rankle? The combination of her unstable childhood and the awful sights she’d seen around the world helped her decide long ago that marriage and children weren’t for her so why did she care if Tom never intended to marry again?
Fee wrapped her hands around her knees and rockedback and forth as large, hot tears trickled down her face.
Tom stared at the bottle of Jack Daniels. For two pins he’d go over to Fee’s cabin and bang on her door to demand she talk to him but he’d had all the rejection he could take for one night. He spread his hands on the table in front of him but all he saw was Fee stretched out in his bed this morning. A rough curse broke from hislips and he picked up the open bottle. Not bothering with a glass he took a long, deep swallow and allowed the smoky warmth to insinuate its way down his throat. The whisky pooled in the base of his stomach and eased the anger eating away at him.
Drinking’s not the answer, son.
His father spoke those words to Tom six months after Gina’s death and he’d sworn to never let it becomea problem again. Tom shoved back his chair and took the bottle over to the kitchen sink. With a grimace he poured the rest of the expensive liquor down the drain, trying to picture his brothers’ horrified faces if they could see him now.
There was no point in going to bed so Tom headed out of the back door and across the yard to his shed. Inside he turned on the lights and stared at thehalf-finished dolls’ house waiting for him on the workbench. Lulu would be one excited little girl on Christmas morning. He’d finished the frame, walls and floor so tonight he’d work on the doors and windows. The painstaking work would be perfect for whiling away the long hours until morning. He only had about another three weeks to get it done because Mary-Jo needed the house completed by Thanksgivingso she’d have plenty of time to add the girly touches. His cousin planned to buy most of the furniture but Tom had told her he’d have a go at a few pieces.
For the next few hours Tom cut, sawed and sanded to his heart’s content before laying each section out ready to paint. A yawn sneaked out of him as the first pink slivers of daylight sneaked in and he started to put all his tools away.When everything was back in place he locked up and wandered towards the cabin.
The loud squeal of tyres on the gravel road broke through the silence and Tom glanced over in time to see Fee’s rental car disappearing out of sight.Where the hell was she off this early?That was a dumb question. No doubt she couldn’t wait any longer to reply to her father’s email and under the circumstanceswasn’t going to askhimfor help again.
He rubbed at the dull headache threatening to erupt and trailed indoors, pretty sure it’d be a long day.
Forcing herself to slow down Fee made a point of paying attention to the beautiful scenery around her. Trees shaded in the last colours of autumn gleamed in the pale, early morning sunlight and the hills beyond the horizon appeared togo on forever. All too soon the leaves would flutter to the ground and winter would wind its icy tentacles around the landscape until spring came around again.
Because of her mother’s itinerant lifestyle the normal markers people used to indicate the passing of another year often slipped by them. Fee had never joined in an Easter Egg hunt, dressed up for Halloween, played with sparklersor eaten hot jacket potatoes on Guy Fawkes’ Night and as for Christmas with its centuries old rituals that even non-believers enjoyed? Most years the 25th of December was little different from any other day. Was she foolish to have believed – however briefly – that a man who took these things for granted could ever really settle for someone who saw them as nothing more than a cultural curiosity?Or could she let loose the part of her that longed to share those common experiences?
Right now she could just keep driving and see where the road took her, the philosophy she’d taken as her mantra the day she left home at sixteen. The few things she’d left at the cabin wouldn’t be any great loss but the idea of Tom finding her abandoned clothes and smelling her scent on them made thatout of the question. No matter how they’d left things last night she couldn’t be so cruel.
She glanced at the map to make sure she took the right road towards Norris. Coming back here was part of a stupid, superstitious idea she had that it might help things to go smoothly with the man who was supposedly her father. Fee parked in the empty street and stared at the small, unlit building.Idiot. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that the cafe would be closed at six in the morning? She’d check to see what time they opened and go for a walk while she waited.
There was a refreshing chill in the air reminding her that tomorrow was the first of November and Fee reached back into the car for the well-worn blue sweatshirt she’d hauled around the globe for years, tugging it on as shewalked up the narrow path to the cafe. Fee stopped to smooth her hair back into place and was surprised to realise it grazed the collar of her white shirt. Sometimes Pierre would laugh and call her his boyfriend, making fun of her refusal to wear make-up and her total disinterest in clothes. She’d laughed along with him until she’d met his glamorous Parisian wife and realised she’d only ever beena diversion from his real life.
I’m a plain man, Fee Winter. I’ve never been one for fuss of any sort.
Tom’s words sneaked back into her brain and she wondered if she was the one complicating things. He’d been honest with her from the beginning. As soon as she got back to Black Cherry she’d talk to him. Life was too short and precious to waste in misunderstandings.
