Back Home at Firefly Lake Page 3

  From Luc’s perspective, though, she was lucky. Her job was quiet and safe. When she wasn’t teaching, she spent her life in libraries and archives. An errant book wouldn’t end her career like a dirty hit had ended his. Yet, these days, permanent university jobs for people with humanities PhDs were as scarce as NHL players over thirty-five. Maybe she and Luc had more in common than she thought.

  “It must be hard not playing in the league this season.” She took the empty cookie sheets he held out and made sure her fingers didn’t brush his.

  “It’s life.” He grabbed paper towels from the holder, wiped the counter, and avoided her gaze. “Even if I hadn’t blown out my shoulder, I’d have had to retire in the next year or so anyway. It’s time I helped with the creamery. Mom and Dad sacrificed a lot for my hockey and they aren’t getting any younger. They’re glad to have me back. I’m spending this winter learning the business.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do well.” Luc did everything well. Not only was he a superb athlete, but he was a good student, class president, and everybody’s friend. The kind of all-rounder that women, as well as college admissions committees, loved.

  She swallowed hard and shoved the last cookie sheet into the dishwasher. She had oodles of academic skills and had gained parenting savvy because she had to. But as far as relationship skills went, she was stuck batting zero—a streak that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon.

  Half the people were talking in French, and Amy’s mom was jabbering away along with them, huddled with her grandma and a tiny, gray-haired woman Amy was supposed to call Aunt Josette.

  Amy edged around the buffet table and out of the big dining room at Harbor House, a plate heaped with food balanced in one hand and a can of soda in the other. If she could make it across the living room and into the little alcove with the TV, she could catch part of the Pittsburgh-Edmonton game.

  “Amy?” Her aunt Mia, who was marrying her uncle Nick the next day, stopped her beside the piano. “Where are you off to all by yourself?”

  “Finding a place to eat.” Amy tried to look innocent. Her mom had asked her to make an effort, but how could she be expected to talk to people who couldn’t be bothered to speak English? “The dining room’s packed.”

  “With lots of relatives you only just met and most of them speaking a language you don’t understand.” Aunt Mia smiled. Not only was her new aunt gorgeous, she was kind, and Amy already loved her. “Why don’t you join Kylie in here?” She gestured toward the alcove where Amy had been headed. “After the rehearsal, she needed a break, too.”

  With a grateful look at her aunt, Amy slipped into the small space and perched on the end of a sofa. Kylie, Uncle Nick and Aunt Mia’s foster daughter, was sprawled on the other end playing a game on her tablet.

  “Hey.” Kylie gestured to a plate piled high with brownies and assorted cookies. “Help yourself. I stocked up.”

  “Thanks.” Before today, Amy had only met Kylie once, but she liked her. Kylie had worn jeans and a sweater to the wedding rehearsal—normal, everyday clothes. Her blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and it was normal hair. If the scattered plates were any indication, she also ate like a normal girl.

  “Do you speak French?” Kylie set her tablet aside and popped a brownie into her mouth.

  “Nope.” Getting English right was enough of a challenge.

  “Me neither.” Kylie swallowed a chunk of brownie. “I have to learn Spanish at school this year and like why?” She rolled her eyes.

  Amy started to smile, then stopped. Her mom already spoke English and French and wanted to learn Italian for fun. She also said knowing other languages was important in understanding other cultures. Amy would have agreed with her if languages—and everything except hockey—hadn’t been so hard for her to learn.

  “I know.” Kylie grinned and her green eyes twinkled. “Mia and my dad would be pissed if they heard me say so, but you have to admit that learning a foreign language in Firefly Lake is about as useless as learning geometry. And geometry’s useless anywhere, unless you’re a math genius.”

  Amy liked this girl more and more. “Your dad, do you mean my uncle Nick?”

  “He’s the only dad I know. I sort of adopted him.” Kylie dug in the pocket of her jeans for a pack of gum and held it out. “Unlike Mia, he doesn’t have any other kids. Since I never had a dad, it works out great.”

  Amy took a stick of gum and set it on the side of her plate. “I don’t have a dad, either.” And she’d only seen one blurry picture of him, so that didn’t count. She didn’t have a dad in any of the ways that were important.

  “That sucks.” Kylie gave Amy’s arm a rough pat. “Do you want a dad?”

  “I don’t know.” It had always been just her mom and her, but lately it was like something was missing. Amy couldn’t miss what she’d never had, though, could she?

  “Even though he’s still learning about it, Nick’s a great dad.” Kylie leaned closer. “Since he and Mia aren’t gonna have any kids of their own, I’ll always be the only one he has that’s all his. He says that makes me extra special. Now you’re living in Firefly Lake, I bet he’ll come to stuff at school for you. He’s good that way.”

  Amy’s chest knotted. Nick was a great uncle, too, and no matter how busy he was with his job as a lawyer, he still called her every few weeks and remembered her birthday. Whenever he came to Boston on business, he took her to a hockey game, to see a movie, or out for a burger. But by this time tomorrow, he’d have his own forever family—Mia and her two daughters, as well as Kylie.

  Her mom might say she didn’t need a dad, or that no dad was better than a bad one, but Amy knew better. A lot of who she was came from that dad who’d died before her mom could tell him she was pregnant. Since she couldn’t have him back, maybe she needed to find someone else like Kylie had.

  She dug her fork into the pasta salad her mom had made especially for the rehearsal party. It was Amy’s favorite, and her mom didn’t have time to make it very often. “When you said that you adopted Nick, what did you mean exactly?”

  If Amy figured it out, maybe she could do the same thing. And she had the perfect guy in mind. Coach Luc would be even better than Uncle Nick, at least for her.

  Chapter Three

  Fourteen years ago, Luc had said the same vows that Nick and Mia had made to each other earlier, and he’d meant every word of them. But death had parted him and Maggie a lot sooner than either of them could have imagined.

  He took a long pull on his beer and scanned the ballroom at the Inn on the Lake, the Victorian hotel outside town nestled beside Firefly Lake. Twinkling white lights were strung from one side of the room to the other, and a big spruce decorated in white and silver stood guard by the head table. Nick and Mia had cut their wedding cake in front of that tree half an hour ago. As soon as they left, he could leave, too. And put the memories that had needled him all day back where they belonged.

  “You look like you’re coming down with something.” Liz Carmichael, an older family friend with a reedy, Vermont lilt and bleached blond hair piled on top of her head in a complicated twist, who worked at the North Woods Diner, slid into the empty chair next to his. She eyed his uneaten piece of cake and frowned. “I thought you looked peaked in church, and you look even worse now. Your skin’s real pasty. I’d have texted your mother, but Chantal’s so excited about your sister’s baby I didn’t want to worry her.”

  “I’m good.” Luc tried to smile. “I’m just tired. Between the creamery and coaching, I’m working a lot.”

  Liz covered his cold hand with her warm one. “This wedding must make you think of your Maggie. As I said to your mom back then, Maggie was the sweetest bride I’d ever seen, and the two of you were so happy. You had a perfect match with that girl. It was a real tragedy what happened.”

  “Yeah, it was.” All of a sudden, Luc found it hard to breathe.

  “Even so, neither Maggie nor your mother would want you sitting here moping.”
Liz gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

  “I’m not moping.” That was what little kids did. He was a thirty-five-year-old man doing his best to move on with his life.

  “So, why haven’t you eaten your cake?” Liz’s brown eyes were kind. “You hardly touched your dinner either, and your folks didn’t raise you to let good food go to waste.”

  Luc let out a shallow breath. He cared about Liz and, apart from his family, she knew him about as well as anybody did. However, one of the disadvantages of living in the small town where you’d grown up was that people had long memories and didn’t hesitate to look out for you, even when you didn’t need it. “I’m not hungry.”

  Liz dug in her sparkly evening bag and brought out a package of saltine crackers wrapped in cellophane. “You shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach. Here, you used to gobble up these crackers when you were little. If you’re feeling queasy, they’ll settle your stomach lickety-split.” She pushed the package into his hand.

  In Luc’s world, one beer didn’t constitute drinking, but he took the crackers and made himself smile. “Thanks, but I’m not queasy, either. I’ll eat something later. There’s a fridge full of food from the rehearsal party at Gabrielle’s house. I won’t starve.”

  From the dance floor with his new wife, Nick raised a dark eyebrow and grinned. His friend looked happier than Luc had ever seen him. Yet, although Luc was glad for Nick and Mia, their happiness made him remember, in painful detail, everything he’d lost.

  “Liz?” Cat appeared at the older woman’s side. In her filmy, dark-red bridesmaid’s dress she looked younger and less serious than usual. “There’s a man over there who I bet would like to dance with you. Why don’t you ask him?” Over Liz’s head, she gave Luc a half-smile.

  “Who?” Liz turned toward Cat, and Luc slipped the crackers into his jacket pocket.

  “My new landlord, Michael Kavanagh.” Cat’s smile widened.

  “Why would he want to dance with me?” Liz’s tone was disbelieving. “He owns the gallery, and that artsy-crafty stuff is way beyond me. You know that painting he’s got in the window, the one with those red and black streaks and yellow tape? It’s as good as a crime scene in the middle of Main Street, but he’s asking a thousand dollars for it.”

  Cat patted Liz’s shoulder. “I don’t like that painting either, but Michael’s planning a quilting exhibition for the summer and he wants your help because you’re the best quilter in Firefly Lake. He says quilting is an art as well as a craft. He also told me you make the best coffee in town and your bran muffins are perfection.” Her blue eyes sparkled, and Luc caught his breath at how that sparkle transformed her face.

  “I’ve known Michael since high school, but he…” Liz put a hand to her hair and smoothed it. “I… he sure was a good dancer back in the day.”

  “You’re a good dancer, too, so go on.” Cat’s expression softened. “It’s only one dance, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so.” Liz gathered up the skirt of her party dress and moved toward Michael, who sat at a table by himself near one of the big windows that overlooked the frozen Firefly Lake.

  “Thanks.” Luc looked up at Cat, tiny even in her heels.

  “Liz is a nice woman, and she’d have made a wonderful mom, but you had the same look on your face Nick gets when she bears down on him. Cornered and in need of rescuing.” Cat’s chuckle was throaty and engaging. “Besides, Michael loves to dance and, although I’ve only been here a short time, he’s always over at the diner. One man can only drink so much coffee or eat that much bran, if you get my drift.”

  “You’re a nice woman, too.” And when Luc was around Cat, he felt a bit like the man he used to be.

  “I like making people happy.”

  “You always did.” Funny how he’d forgotten that about her. He gestured and Cat sat beside him.

  “I grew up with the Care Bears, remember?” Her face got a wistful expression.

  “I sure do. How’s Cheer Bear doing these days?” That soft pink bear was as much a part of the little girl he remembered as her glasses, long blond hair, and the stack of library books she’d toted around with her everywhere.

  “He’s fine.” She put a hand to her mouth.

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I probably have a few old G.I. Joe figures around somewhere. My mom kept a lot of stuff for those grandchildren she was hoping for.” And now his kid sister had a baby boy, the best holiday gift ever, his mom said when he’d talked to her earlier.

  He glanced toward the dance floor. Nick still had Mia wrapped in his arms. Gabrielle danced with Ward, and Mia’s sister, Charlie, was cuddled up with her husband, Sean, who owned the marina where Luc kept his boat. Even Cat’s sister, Georgia, was attempting to teach a waltz to Josh Tremblay, who ran the local plumbing and heating store.

  “Hey.” He took a deep breath. “Do you want to dance? Everyone else is, and if we don’t join in, they’ll think we’re unsociable.” In Firefly Lake, being unsociable, if not a certifiable crime, was enough to make people talk and maybe even call you an “odd duck.”

  “I’m not really a dancer, but sure… okay.” Cat worried her bottom lip.

  “I won’t step on your feet. Back when she thought she might turn her kids into figure skaters like her, my mom taught my sisters and me how to dance.” Luc got up and held out his hands.

  After several seconds, she put her hands in his. Like the rest of her, Cat’s hands were small and, as they moved onto the dance floor, Luc’s breath got short. Maggie was the last woman he’d danced with, and that had been at a wedding, too. As he’d held her, Maggie had tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder, and Luc knew he’d love her forever. No other woman could ever come close.

  “Luc?” Cat peered at him. Without her glasses, her eyes were even bluer. “We don’t have to dance. Nick and Mia will be leaving soon, and I need to get Amy home and into bed. She’s had a long day.”

  He pulled himself back to the present with an effort. “It’s fine. I want to dance with you.” As she’d told Liz, it was only a dance.

  He drew her into his arms, her slight figure so different from Maggie’s strong, athletic frame. While his wife had reached his shoulder, the top of Cat’s shiny, blond head barely grazed the middle of his chest. His heart tripped at her nearness, and he smelled flowers. Roses, but with an unexpected citrus tang.

  “Nick and Mia have had a happy day.” Cat’s words were a soft murmur, and the bare skin of her shoulder was smooth and warm beneath his hand.

  “They sure have.” And as he’d watched his friend say his vows, Luc’s heart had contracted. Nick’s first marriage had ended in divorce, but with Mia he’d found a second chance. However, Nick hadn’t left part of his heart beneath a pink granite stone on a dreary November day, and he hadn’t lost a part of himself he’d never get back.

  As Natalie Cole crooned “Unforgettable,” Cat stumbled against him. “See, I told you I’m not a good dancer.”

  “You just need more practice.” Luc steadied her as his mouth went dry. Even though he might want to, he couldn’t be the one to give her that practice, but, in the darkness of the dance floor, illuminated only by those little white lights, all the reasons why holding her like this was a bad idea evaporated. Cat was soft, warm, and alive. With that warmth, some of the ice that had encased his heart for the past two years melted, and his body hummed with an almost-forgotten awareness.

  The music stopped. Then noisemakers blared and streamers and balloons fell from the ceiling. All around them, laughter and cheers echoed, and outside the ballroom window fireworks lit up the night sky in brilliant technicolor.

  “Happy New Year, Luc.” Cat tilted her head to look at him.

  “Bonne année, Catherine.” His voice was husky, the intonation of the French words he hadn’t spoken for years instinctive. His hand trembled as he brushed her back, and he sucked in a harsh breath.

  Her body quivered as she rested her head against his chest.
“What are we doing?” Although her voice was low and despite the cacophony, he heard every word.

  “I don’t know.” His heart shifted and all the nerve endings in his body stirred and tingled. But even though he might not know what this was, he knew he had to stop before it went any further.

  “Today’s been a cross between my biggest nightmare and every cheesy family holiday movie I’ve ever seen.” A sparkly silver hat perched lopsidedly on Georgia’s head, and she grinned at Cat, who collected the mountain of dirty plates scattered around the living room at Harbor House in the wake of their mom’s New Year’s Day buffet brunch. “Wall-to-wall relatives. I ate so much I’m about to burst, and what’s with the dog in a dress?”

  “Mom got Pixie a special holiday outfit.” Cat plucked the Maltese from the nest she’d made out of Aunt Josette’s mohair sweater. “I know it may seem unusual but—”

  “Unusual.” Georgia snorted. “It’s downright weird.”

  “Says the woman who’s spent the past six months on top of an Indian mountain chanting most of the day.” Cat gave Georgia an answering grin. “She who lives in a glass house should not cast stones.”

  “It was a retreat and yoga center, and I wasn’t chanting, at least not all of the time. I was meditating.” Georgia’s voice was unexpectedly serious. “You should try it. It helped me figure out a lot about who I am and what I want in life.”

  “I already know that.” Cat’s stomach knotted. It was taking her longer to get what she wanted than she expected, but she had a plan. And that plan was based on who she was and what she’d worked toward for years.

  “Dressing up Pixie aside, Mom’s looking good.” Georgia glanced toward the dining room. “She and Ward sure looked all loved-up dancing at the wedding last night.”

  “They are and Mom is good. Seeing her now, I can’t believe she was so sick.” Cat folded the sweater in a jerky motion. “Having everyone here for the wedding and New Year’s is a special gift for her.” And for Cat, too, because twelve months ago, she’d worried that her mom wouldn’t see another new year.