Snowstorm at Cedar Creek Read online

  Ella shifted her position on the sofa. “Mom, dating’s more of a twentieth-century thing.”

  Annie caught Finn’s eye. His mouth quirked at the corners.

  Ignoring her mother’s reaction, Ella continued, “We’ve been friends since freshman year.” Connor flashed a surprised look at her. Ella hastened to add, “I mean, not counting here.”

  Connor said, “Here counts. We’ve spent every summer together since—forever.”

  Just as Annie had with Finn. So all of her wishes and dreams had come true but skipped a generation. This was not how it was supposed to work.

  Ella said, “My point is, we know each other. Really well. We’ve been friends for a long time, and since college, we’ve been more.”

  Annie lifted an eyebrow.

  Connor straightened his posture. “Annie, I’ve got a good job lined up starting after the holidays. I can support us.”

  “Support you?” Barely registering Connor’s assurance, she turned to her daughter. “What about your career? Or is that more of a twentieth-century thing too?”

  Ella leveled a withering stare at her mom. “I’m still looking.”

  Annie opened her mouth, but no words would come, so she exhaled. She had questions. More than that, she had statements—and a lot of them ended with exclamation points. She needed a minute. “Excuse me.”

  Annie wrapped her sweater around her and walked out to the porch for some air. The brisk air felt good against her flushed face. Strands of moonlight found their way through pine boughs and shimmered over the water. It was perfect out here—everything she had longed for when she’d made the decision to move. Up to this point, though, her expectations of what her life would be like had blown up. At twenty-one, she had married, and within a year was a mother and widow. She’d raised Ella alone, pouring all her time and attention into giving her daughter the happiest childhood she could. Not that Annie was a saint. She’d be the first to admit—to herself, anyway—that she’d been hiding. Ella had been her shield from a world that had hurt her. But she’d built a life that was good for them both. If she could fill her daughter with kindness and confidence, Ella would have what she needed to build her own happy life.

  Isn’t that what she’s doing?

  It wasn’t the concept of marriage that shocked her. It was just so unexpected, and that troubled Annie. Was her daughter about to derail her career and her future all for Connor? Annie sighed as if she could exhale the ache in her heart. Every parent had dreams for their children, but children had a way of not sticking to the script. Ella was an adult. She was perfectly capable of making decisions—even bad ones. Especially those.

  Annie certainly knew about bad decisions. She’d made one when she was the same age as Ella by—ironically—eloping with Ella’s father. After that, her life seemed to unravel along with her career plans.

  Annie wrapped her arms about her waist and stared at the water.

  Behind her, the door gently opened. She glanced back to see Finn then turned back to the creek.

  Finn said, “They’re adults. They don’t need our permission.”

  Annie snapped, “I know that!” She drew in a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize.” Same old Finn—quiet and calm, with a silent strength that once had a young Annie convinced he was some sort of real-life superhero, her own personal Clark Kent with superpowers no one but Annie suspected.

  She’d spent a lot of time alone reading as a child.

  She glanced over at Finn. His Clark Kent glasses were gone, having disappeared soon after his engagement, no doubt due to corrective eye surgery at Georgina’s insistence. Annie had never minded the glasses. They’d made him look human. Otherwise, he was too darned good-looking, with his deep-brown hair, strong jawline, and gentle hazel eyes. Those eyes made her weak in the knees. She didn't understand how he did it, but his gaze didn’t just touch her heart—it held her captive. He was doing it now, and it made her heart ache all over again.

  Annie sat down on the porch steps. “Married.” If she said it enough, she might begin to accept it. “How did Georgina take the news?”

  Finn gazed into the distance with a glint in his eye. “She had other plans for her only child, but she’ll come around. How ’bout you?”

  Annie lifted her eyebrows and tried to look reassuring. “Finn, please understand, this is not about Connor. I'm just absorbing the shock. But he’s your son, so how bad could it be?” She smiled.

  His eyes crinkled. “Relax. He's a way better version of me.”

  Annie tried to seem duly amused. The guy had no idea how much he’d hurt her. He’d never done it on purpose, but that almost made it worse. She couldn’t even hate him.

  Finn’s smile faded. “The thing is, I honestly think they’re in love.”

  “And that’s all they need, isn’t it?” She smiled, but she knew how bitter she sounded. She shook off the emotion.

  Their eyes met and darted away. From inside the rustling trees, birds sang. Love birds. Perfect.

  “Some marriages are happy.” Finn broke the silence.

  “So I hear.” Annie took a quiet breath. Don’t do this. “I’m sorry. It just seems so rushed.”

  “Only because we didn’t know about it. Knowing Connor, he’s compiled a spreadsheet with contingency tables.”

  “Ella never told me a thing.”

  Finn’s easy smile annoyed her. “Come on, Annie. Did you tell your parents about every guy in your life?”

  She frowned. “Well, not every guy, only the serious ones.”

  “What about me? What did you tell them?”

  Is he smiling? No, he is laughing at me. I can’t decide whether he’s a fool or a jerk.

  She smirked. “About you? They knew all they needed to know.”

  That drew a robust laugh. The last thing she felt like doing was smiling, but she did. She’d had so many years of practice at playing along, as if her heart didn’t throb when his eyes settled on hers.

  A warm smile lit his eyes. “I’ve always loved that about you.”

  “What?” Please stop staring at me. She tried to look annoyed.

  “You’re just Annie.”

  How many years had she forced this same smile? “Thanks.”

  “No, I mean it.”

  Just Annie. I get it, so please stop insisting. This is not going to be about me. My daughter is in there making the biggest choice—or mistake—of her life. I need to do something. A sudden thought came to her like a punch in the gut. She stared at Finn. “I’m an idiot.”

  Before he could react, she went inside and confronted her daughter.

  “You’re pregnant.” She shot a look at Connor, whose jaw dropped as he shook his head no. “I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.”

  Ella leapt to her feet. “Mom! Oh my gosh! Get a grip! I’m not pregnant!”

  Annie followed Ella’s indignant gaze to the doorway, where Finn stood as though planning a hasty retreat. At that moment, he looked like anything but a superhero as he wore a confused frown. Connor had a deer-in-the-headlights expression. With an eye roll, Ella heaved a huge sigh, no doubt realizing she was on her own. Everyone around her was engulfed in their own individual torment.

  “Mom, people get married all the time—people who aren’t even pregnant!” Ella cried. “Sometimes they’re just in love! Not that you’d know anything about that.”

  Annie felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, and then she felt sick to her stomach. In fact, Annie did know all about love and how much it could hurt.

  Her daughter dissolved into tears. “Thanks for trusting me, Mom!” With that, she rushed outside through the kitchen door, followed closely by Connor.

  Finn walked into the kitchen and glanced toward the screen door. “That went well.”

  Great. Now he’s leaving too.

  “I hate you all!” The mere thought overwhelmed her with guilt. “Not really. I’m just having a very hard time.” S
he went into the living room and sank onto the sofa.

  A short time later, Finn came from the kitchen with two beers.

  Annie frowned at the beers. “So are you, I see.”

  Finn smiled. “One’s for you.”

  She took it. “I don’t drink beer.”

  “I know. But I thought you might make an exception for the occasion.”

  Annie lifted her eyes to meet his then took the beer and downed half of it. With a grimace, she wiped her mouth. “Blegh! I don't know how college kids do this.” Then she belched spectacularly, and he laughed.

  How can he laugh at a time like this?

  “I’m impressed.” He sat down beside her and stretched out his legs, resting his feet on the coffee table. He leaned back his head as Annie had done, and the two of them stared at the ceiling. A memory warmed Annie’s heart. Finn was repeating a childhood ritual. After long morning swims, they’d plop down on a sofa in one of their houses and wait for the inevitable PB&Js to arrive from whichever parent was closest to the kitchen. As he had so many times before, Finn said, “I spy with my little eye something that is blue.”

  Annie turned to face his knowing look. “Me?”

  Kindness shone in his eyes.

  A wave of sadness washed over her. “They grew up.”

  “Dang kids.”

  That coaxed a smile from her.

  “Is it really so bad?” He leaned closer. Oh man, he smells good.

  She frowned and reluctantly answered him. “No.”

  “They’re adults.”

  “Young adults.”

  Something about his amused reaction annoyed her.

  Finn asked, “How old were you when you first fell in love?”

  He’d just touched a nerve, and he had no idea. The answer was twelve, but she sure wasn’t going to tell him.

  He leaned away, studying her. “Now, that is a very intriguing expression. Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  A broad smile lit his face. “No, you’ve told me that numerous times.”

  She smiled and wistfully said, “Yeah, I have, haven’t I?”

  “Look, they’re young, but still… they’re twenty-one. We’d have a pretty hard time stopping the wedding.”

  Annie exhaled. “Why is it you can get married younger than you can rent a car?”

  Finn leveled that look that always meant he couldn’t be bothered to argue the point. “Look, Connor has a great job lined up.” Annie drew in a breath, but Finn cut her off. “And Ella will find a job too.”

  Annie didn’t realize she was shaking her head until Finn told her not to.

  “Come on, Annie.” He nudged her shoulder with his like he used to when they were kids. “It’s not like they just met. They used to play in a wading pool together.”

  “I should never have let her bathe topless.” She smiled begrudgingly.

  “They’ve spent four years in college together. They’re smart. They’re in love. They’ll be fine.”

  “I know. It’s just kind of a shock.” A tear appeared out of nowhere and clouded her vision. She wiped it away before Finn could notice. Or maybe he did.

  He teasingly leaned against her shoulder again. “Come on, Oakley.”

  That did it. He knew how that nickname annoyed her. She whipped her head toward him. But instead of the smirk she’d expected, his eyes softened, dissolving her annoyance.

  Gently, he said, “You looked like you needed a laugh.” But she wasn’t laughing, and neither was he. He was staring into her eyes, and she was drowning in his gaze. Guys with soft hazel eyes had a duty to take care who they looked at like that. Not everyone could handle that sort of rapt attention.

  Finn said, “They’re in love.”

  Annie set down her beer and winced. “I hope so.”

  She turned to Finn. Maybe he did have superpowers, because his gaze overpowered her panic and calmed her—so much so that she let down her guard. “I just wasn’t prepared to let go.” She fought to tamp down her emotions.

  Finn touched her hand, then he gave it a squeeze. “I know. But maybe it’s time.” He let go.

  Annie searched his eyes. “Is that what you’re doing? You’re just letting go?”

  He shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

  Annie tried but couldn’t come up with an answer.

  Finn leaned his elbows on his knees and stared off to the distance. He turned long enough for a knowing glance back, and a twinkle came into his eyes. “On the bright side, we’ll be family.” He grinned.

  She’d once dreamed about being a family together, but never like this. She made a serious effort to smile.

  Finn asked, “What do you say we go find them and give them our blessing?”

  3

  Finn followed Annie to the driveway. She was right. Ella and Connor were young. So was he when he’d fallen for Annie. He’d been backpacking through Europe with his college girlfriend, Tamara. But when they got off the train at Amsterdam Central station, they parted ways.

  She said she was tired of youth hostels and even more tired of him. Then she kissed him on the cheek. “There’s my train.” She smiled and walked away.

  He spent a week wandering the streets alongside the canals in a daze, his thoughts only interrupted by tingling handlebar bells as the occasional bicyclist swerved to miss him. It was then that he grew to appreciate the impressive grasp the Dutch had on English—especially curse words. Halfway through the Hermitage Museum, with tales of Napoleon and Josephine clouding his mind—or maybe it was the wafting weed smoke he’d walked through on the way—he had an epiphany. What if Annie was his Josephine, the one constant love of his life?

  He still didn’t know where the thought came from, but the idea stuck. He’d caught the next train to Schiphol Airport and headed for home. Not even a middle seat on the long flight home could quell his new joy. Annie Pope. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

  With merciful timing, Annie glanced at him over her shoulder and drew him back to the present. He didn’t need to relive what had come next. So he shook off the memories and followed Annie to their two kids who were crazy in love. He couldn’t help but notice from his current perspective that Annie had held up pretty well over the years.

  From a few steps away, Annie said, “Ella—”

  “Mom, it’s okay.” From the way she regarded her mother, it clearly was not. “I mean, it’s not, but I want… can’t you just be happy for us?”

  Finn glanced at Connor. They’d survived the explosion. Now they just had to contend with the fallout. Connor held Ella’s hand so securely, if she fell off a cliff, she’d be safe, but her fingers might turn blue from the lost circulation.

  Given how Annie had reacted to the news, she looked surprisingly stoic. Anyone watching her might have thought she was taking the news in stride, but Finn knew her. Annie grew quiet when she was upset. From the way Ella shifted her weight back and forth, she seemed to pick up on Annie’s tension.

  Annie whispered, “I’m sorry. I was shocked. I just didn’t expect it.”

  Ella stared downward, jaw clenched.

  Annie tenderly lifted Ella’s chin. “Are you happy?”

  Through her tears, Ella said, “Yes.”

  Annie turned to Connor. “What have you got to say for yourself?”

  Connor looked straight at Annie. “I love her.”

  “Good answer.” Annie didn’t move for a moment. “Okay. But if you ever hurt her, I’ll—”

  “You’ll have to get in line behind me.” Finn took a step forward and stood beside Annie.

  Annie smiled, truly smiled, for the first time, and it lit up her face—his as well. He remembered a time when she used to smile all the time. It was so long ago. Before he lost himself in her gaze, Finn stretched out his arms. “Bring it in. Let’s have a group hug so we can go in and break open a bottle of—something!” They all laughed and hugged before heading back inside together.

  Annie
opened and closed cupboards, looking for something to toast with. Finn headed for the door. “Before you reach for the vanilla extract, let me run next door. I’m sure I’ve got something appropriate.”

  Outside, the night sounds weren’t nearly as loud as his thoughts. He wasn’t any more thrilled than Annie about the engagement. Connor and Ella would barely have time to be adults on their own before taking on the challenges a marriage could bring. But Finn wasn’t too old to remember being Connor’s age and in love. That memory was the root cause of his apprehension. He had followed his heart to Europe, gotten dumped there, then suddenly discovered his feelings for Annie. He’d never had a chance to explore what those feelings were. Feelings ran a broad spectrum. He just knew they were deep.

  Finn paused with a bottle of wine in his hand. What if? The question had haunted him over the years.

  You can’t build a life with what ifs. But it would have been a much happier life.

  Finn paused at Annie’s door, drew in a breath, and walked inside with a bright-eyed expression. He grabbed four glasses and poured. “Here’s to love and a lifetime of happiness!”

  Although they all gave the appearance of ease, there were subtle signs of strain between Annie and Ella. They were pleasant, even cheerful, but Annie had a habit that had always betrayed her. Since they were kids, she’d always smoothed her hair back from her forehead—even if there was none there. She’d lift her eyebrows as if she were trying to convince herself everything was fine. At the moment, she was convincingly forcing a smile. She was good. But a few glances between her daughter and Connor made it clear Ella wasn’t buying any of it.

  Hours later, after reminiscing about past summers together and Connor and Ella’s PG version of how their college years had brought them to this point, Annie stifled a yawn.

  “Are we boring you, Mother?” Ella grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Finn came to the rescue. “It is after midnight.”

  Connor shifted his weight as though he were about to get up. Then he looked at Ella. “I hadn’t planned this far ahead, but of course, we’ll have to stay over.”