Wind Chime Wedding (A Wind Chime Novel Book 2) (35 page)

She looked back at the flowers lying at the base of the headstone. “After the accident, I almost lost both of you. I think…there were times when Dad wanted to die, when he wished that the alcohol would just take him and numb the pain forever. And I think I’ve been afraid of a love that strong my whole life—a love that could kill me if it ended. I thought it was something I could protect myself from.”

She looked back down at the ring as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “But you can’t protect yourself from it, can you? You can’t stop yourself from falling in love when you meet the person you’re supposed to be with. There’s nothing that can stop that, is there?”

She twisted the ring around one more time, then slowly eased it off her finger. Laying it on the bench beside her, she felt a weight—a weight she’d been carrying for years—begin to lift. She looked back out at the water, breathing in the scent of spring flowers, of morning dew, of new beginnings. She sat for several minutes in silence, watching a workboat motor slowly through the mists until the sound of the engine faded, and there was nothing but the songs of the birds and the whisper of wind playing through the marsh grasses.

She didn’t hear the footsteps of the man walking up behind her until he was only a few feet away. She glanced over her shoulder and froze when she caught sight of her father. “Dad,” she said, looking away and quickly swiping at the tears on her cheeks before he could see them. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out on the water.”

He walked around to the front of the bench, sitting down beside her. “The hydraulics are leaking again.”

“Again?”

He nodded. “I thought I had a few extra gaskets in the truck, but I couldn’t find any. I was heading home to check the garage when I saw you walking this way.”

If he’d seen her walking from home and followed her, how long had he been here? How much had he heard?

Slowly, answering her question before she had to ask it out loud, he reached for her hand. “Have you told Tom?”

Becca let out a shaky breath. He’d heard everything. “I told him yesterday.”

“How did he take it?”

“Not well.” She looked back out at the water. Tom had been furious, not because she’d broken his heart, but by how the partners at his firm might react to the news. He was sure they would see him as unstable now, unfit to be a part of the family at the firm because he couldn’t get his own fiancée to walk down the aisle.

He’d told her she was selfish, that she was making a huge mistake. When she’d offered to come over and get her things, he’d told her to wait until later this week when he was at work, so he wouldn’t have to see her.

Her father looked down at the ring on the bench between them, his gaze lingering on the diamond glittering in the soft morning light. When he looked back up, his eyes were sad. “I thought you loved Tom, that he was what you wanted. I didn’t realize you never really loved him. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that’s what your mother and I would have wanted. Just because we were high school sweethearts doesn’t mean that everyone will meet their true love in high school. All your mother and I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“Are
you
happy, Dad?” she asked. “You’ve never remarried. You’ve never even dated anybody since Mom. Haven’t you ever wanted to at least try to move on?”

“I’ve never had any interest in anyone but your mother.”

“But aren’t you lonely? Don’t you wish—”

“I
wish
,” he said gently, “that you would stop trying so hard to make everyone else happy and start thinking about yourself for once.”

She looked down at their joined hands. Was it possible they had both spent all these years trying to make up for what they thought they’d done—she inadvertently causing the accident and he falling apart afterwards—that they hadn’t taken the time to consider what they needed individually?

What would happen if she opened up to him? If she told him the truth? If she didn’t try so hard to be the strong one? If she let him be her father again?

“You’re falling for Colin, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

She nodded as another tear slipped free. She brushed it away, but she didn’t try to hide her face from him anymore. “He’s leaving, Dad. He got a job offer in Colorado. I can’t ask him to stay here for me. I don’t want to hold him back. I don’t want to make the same mistake I made with Tom.”

“Colin’s not Tom,” her father said. “You need to tell him how you feel. If you don’t, you’ll always wonder.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“What I feel for Colin… It’s…” She shook her head, unable to put it into words. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“All love is risk, Becca,” her father said gently. “It’s true that losing your mother almost killed me, and I will always regret how I handled things after the accident. But I would never have taken back one moment of my life with her.” His brown eyes softened, reflecting the memories that no one would ever be able to take away from him. “I would rather have a love as strong as I had with your mother for a single day than a lukewarm love that lasted a lifetime.”

Walking home a
half hour later, Becca thought about what her father had said—that all love was risk. She had never considered herself much of a risk taker. She had spent most of her life choosing the paths that were safe, the ones that would result in the least possibility of getting hurt.

But was that any way to live? Without taking risks, how would you ever know what you were truly capable of? How would you ever know how happy you could be? How would you ever know if someone you loved felt the same way about you, unless you found the courage to tell him?

She thought about the risk Annie had taken in going after Will six months ago. After spending five weeks on the island—the first time he’d been home in over ten years—Will had left abruptly when his SEAL team had been called up for a mission, without any plans to ever return. Becca had been one of the first people who’d encouraged Annie to go after him. She’d been the one to purchase the plane ticket and put it in her friend’s hand. With Grace, Ryan and Della’s help, she’d practically forced Annie onto that flight to San Diego.

But Annie and Will’s situation had been so different. Will had been in love with Annie. Anyone who’d seen them together had known that. And the bond between Will and Taylor had grown so strong in those five short weeks, that if Annie hadn’t gone after him, the rest of the islanders would have gone for her.

Following the thin path that skirted the edge of the marshes, Becca thought back to what Annie had said to her a few days ago, when they’d been talking in her kitchen:
‘I saw the way you looked at Colin today. And the way he looked at you. There wasn’t a person in that room who couldn’t see the chemistry between you.’

Letting her fingertips trail along the tops of the grasses, Becca knew it was true. There was no question there had been chemistry between them since the first night they’d met. But was it fair of her to ask him to stay—to turn down a job offer he was obviously interested in if he’d flown all the way out to Colorado to interview for it—when they hadn’t even gone on a single date yet?

The soft ground gave way to pavement and she was back on her street. A few neighbors were waking up, sipping coffee on their porches or wandering out to the sidewalk to retrieve the morning paper. Randy Cole’s black lab was outside, chasing bunnies through Gladys Schaefer’s flowerbeds, her tail wagging, her nose wet with dew. She could hear children running around inside some of the houses, their squeals and laughter drifting out the windows, into the street.

What if Colin had finally realized that Heron Island wasn’t big enough for him? That he needed more out of life? That he was destined for greater things?

Who was she to hold him back from that?

Turning up the path to her house, she glanced up at the porch, and stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart jumped, thumping against her rib cage as she took in the man sitting on her steps.

Colin rose slowly.

“I-I thought you were in Colorado,” Becca stammered.

“I was.”

Becca’s heart beat faster. What was he doing here? Had he come back to say goodbye? To tell her that he was leaving? That he needed to start his new job right away? She forced herself to remain calm, to put one foot in front of the other as she started toward him. “Annie told me about Austin…about the job.”

Colin nodded, never taking his eyes off hers as she slowly closed the distance between them. “It was a tempting offer.”

She paused, looking up at him, her heart in her throat. “You’re not taking it?”

“No.”

A seed of hope sprouted inside her, stretching up toward the sun. “Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t on Heron Island,” he said, reaching for her hand, “and you weren’t there.”

Petals unfurled, blooming inside her.

“I saw Grace’s article,” Colin said quietly. “I called her afterwards, to thank her.” His fingers curled around Becca’s—safe, warm, secure. “She told me you were the one who gave her the pictures.”

Becca nodded.

He turned her hand over slowly, gazing down at her bare fingers. “And that you weren’t engaged anymore.”

“I’m not,” she said softly.

He lifted his eyes back to hers, brushing his thumb over the spot where her ring had been. All around them, birds chirped from the branches of the trees. Down the street, a neighbor’s sprinkler clicked on, shooting a cheerful spray of water into the flowerbeds.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Becca asked. “Are you sure this island, and the inn, will be enough for you?”

Colin smiled. “I’m not taking the job in Colorado because Austin and I came to a different arrangement, one that’s much more appealing to both of us.”

Becca waited for him to go on.

“We both want to expand on what we’re doing, to open more of these centers all over the country,” Colin explained. “We’re going to use Will’s inn and the center in Colorado as models. As soon as both places are up and running, we’re going to reach out to everyone we know and see how many people we can recruit who might be willing to open similar places in their hometowns. We’re going into business together. Austin will run the West Coast side of the operations from L.A., and I’ll head up the East Coast side from here.”

Becca held her breath. “Here?”

He nodded. “I’m going to keep my apartment in Annapolis. I’ll probably be back and forth a fair amount, at least in the beginning, but I’ll spend most of my time on Heron Island.”

Risk, Becca thought, as early morning sunlight slanted into the yard, bathing them both in a warm golden glow. If this wasn’t worth risking everything for, then what was? “Colin, I—”

His mouth was on hers before she could finish her sentence, before she could even say the words out loud.

And what was there to say, really? Hadn’t they talked enough?

He had come back. He had decided to stay. That was all the answer she’d needed.

Melting into him, she surrendered to the kiss. She gave into the feeling of falling, of losing control, of letting everything go but the two of them and this moment. His arms came around her and she felt something shift, like rocks tumbling from a stone wall. The base crumbled, washing away, until there was nothing but grass and flowers—row after row of beautiful flowers swaying in the wind.

Colin pulled back slowly, laying his forehead against hers. “I want to spend the day with you, Becca,” he murmured, touching her cheek. “Just you.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

“And then,” he said, his hand skimming down her arm, reaching for her hand, “I’d like to take you out. On a date. Somewhere nice. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere in St. Michaels or Easton where we can talk and get to know each other, without everyone on the island watching us.”

She glanced up at him, surprised. He’d never seemed like the kind of person who cared what other people thought.

He nodded over her shoulder and she turned, following his gaze to where several of her neighbors were standing in their front yards dressed only in their robes and pajamas, gaping at them.