Page 19 of Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat
Her mind’s eye captured Tom, dark-eyed and furious as he’d stormed past her earlier. The perfect shot would have horrified him because there’d been nothing mild-mannered about him as he almost shoved her to the ground in his haste. Tom must have been pushed past his limit and snapped. It was plain her surface impressionof the Chambers as one big, happy family wasn’t completely accurate but in her experience few things were. Pulitzer Prizes weren’t awarded for sweet, cuddly stories but to those with the courage to search for the dark side. Everything and everyone had one.
An ex-boyfriend criticised her for not personally caring about anything.You see everything through a damn lens. It filters all youdo. You’ll never truly love another person because you’re too busy framing the next perfect shot.
Pierre, and her fellow photographers understood if you didn’t maintain a slight distance it consumed you and spat you back out. But if you weren’t lucky in the end it sucked you dry. After everything that’d happened with Pierre she had nothing left to give which was what had brought her here.Fee shoved the camera back into the bag with a heavy sigh. She’d go back to Black Cherry Retreat and hope it worked the magic she needed. Right now she had nothing to offer Tom or anyone else.
Tom watched the level decrease in the whisky bottle without caring. Fee’s shocked expression wouldn’t leave him and neither would the hurt he’d put in his father’s eyes. He pushed the toe of hisboot into the floor to set the chair rocking and closed his eyes as he drank.
‘MrChambers?’
‘Who’s askin’?’ He opened one eye. A prissy young man with tortoiseshell glasses and a superior expression stared at him from the bottom step. Tom noticed a couple of kids and a sour-faced blonde woman peering out of the gleaming red Volvo parked on the road.
‘Quentin Waters. We’vegot a cabin booked.’
Shit. He’d forgotten all about the new guests and left their groceries behind in the cafe. Luckily his own pantry was well stocked so he’d be okay. ‘Sure thing. Come on inside and we’ll get the paperwork out of the way.’ He dragged himself up to standing.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘Against the law in Florida, is it?’ he challenged.
‘Well no,but—’
‘Fine, don’t worry about it none then.’ Tom strode away, flinging open the door and taking it for granted the man would follow. Dropping down into his desk chair he fumbled with the computer for a moment and brought up the right screen. While he took the man’s credit card and printed out a receipt he ran through the usual spiel about the resort. ‘Right, we’re done.’
‘Aren’tyou’re going to show us to our cabin?’
Tom retained enough brain cells to realise he was being an ass. Running this place gave him a huge measure of freedom but everything had its down side and thankfully annoying guests were a rarity. ‘Of course. Come back out and I’ll direct you where to drive then walk up to meet you.’
Tom got through the next half hour by the skin of his teeth.He’d never known a guest ask so many questions. Where are the spare towels? Maybe in the closet marked towels and bed linens. What kind of bug spray do the children need? Perhaps one that stopped them screaming. When he dared to give the children a sharp look their mother promptly informed him they believed in encouraging freedom of expression. Hank would say they needed a good swat on the backsideand to be taught some manners. After his own bad behaviour today he was damn lucky not to have got the same thing himself – nearly forty-one or not.
‘I’ll leave you to settle in. You know where I am if there’s anything else you need.’ He tipped his hat and made a quick escape. This could be a long week. Tom had a sinking feeling Quentin Waters would be bugging him every five minutes.
On his porch he sat back down and reached for the glass again but the sour smell of the whisky turned his stomach. Tom stared into the dusk and wished the long, lousy day was over. Off in the woods an owl started its night-time call and a tingle ran down his spine as a vague shape moved down the path towards him.
‘Is it safe to come closer or are you going to knock me over again?’Fee’s lilting voice took him by surprise.
‘I never knocked you over,’ he protested.
‘You came bloody close. I’d have been on the ground if your sweet father hadn’t rescued me.’ Without waiting for an invitation she strolled up the steps and sat down next to him. ‘I thought I’d come and see if you’d rejoined the human race or if you were still off in your angry place?’
He glared, but she only gave him a compassionate smile. Whatever macho trick a man needed to silence women with a single look he’d well and truly missed out on.
‘Whisky’s always a bad idea.’ She pointed to the half-empty bottle.
‘Says who?’
‘Me. Been there. Done that. ‘
Tom wasn’t in the mood to swap sob stories with a pretty woman he’d much rather kiss. ‘You’d bettergo, honey,’ he grouched.
‘Why?’
‘I’ve had a shitty day. Don’t want to talk about it either.’
‘I wasn’t offering to listen. You’re sorry enough for yourself without me joining in the pity party.’ She folded her long legs underneath her and rocked alongside him.
‘Whydidyou come?’ He wished she’d leave before he made even more of a fool of himself for one day.
‘Not sure really,’ Fee said with a shrug. ‘Tired of my own company?’
He scoffed. ‘And you thought mine would be better?’
‘There’s not much choice around here.’
‘You could spend time with the Burtons and learn the secrets of a long happy marriage or go visit your new neighbours and they’ll put you off the idea of marriage and kids for good. Take your pick.’
Fee’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. ‘Which camp do you fall in?’
He guessed she was asking something important and the real question was whether or not to give her an honest answer.
