Falling for the Single Dad (16 page)

The blackness of the night and the driving rain obscured the shoreline. Dropping her gaze to the deck, Caroline blinked. The boat was taking on too much water.

“Dad? The boat... The water...” She motioned.

Grim-faced, her father fiddled with the maritime radio. He raised the mike to his mouth and pressed the button. Static crackled. “Mayday. Mayday. This is the
Now I Sea
...”

Tucking Izzie into the curve of her neck and cradling the crown of her head, Caroline sent out her own version of mayday to their Heavenly Father.

Because the road home had never seemed so long. Or as perilous.

Chapter Eighteen

A
s the hours ticked by and the storm continued to rage, Weston fought his own private battle with despair.

He grappled with overwhelming fear and hopelessness. The blackness of the night outside the lantern room windows reflected the bleakness of his heart. And magnified the insidious, seeping doubt he'd never see his beautiful child again.

Was this what it was like for Caroline? He could hardly breathe for the inner turmoil lashing his heart. He fell to his knees in agony.

He'd always believed himself strong of mind and body. But how had the fragile Caroline coped with this kind of anguish? And for years?

Weston prayed with every ounce of his being for Izzie to come home to him. And if she didn't? He sucked in a breath at the suddenness of the thought—he'd want to be with her no matter what.

He shook his head against the idea. But he wondered whether, if he'd been given to melancholy like Caroline, he'd be so easily freed from the dark notion. If perhaps this was a taste of what she'd endured and overcome in her war against the darkness.

The phone in his jean pocket trilled. Clumsy with emotion, he dug it out with trembling hands. Good news? Or the worst?

“Weston? This is Braeden.”

He swallowed against the lump lodged in his throat. “Have you found Izzie?”

“She's with Seth Duer, Wes. He and Caroline found her.”

“Thank You, God,” Weston breathed, and then frowned. “Caroline?” He clenched the cell.

“We received an emergency transmission from Seth on the
Now I Sea
. With the storm, visibility is at zero. He's lost onboard navigation and barely powering through the storm. There's no way to pinpoint his location until the squall lifts.”

“You've got to get to them,” Weston growled into the receiver.

“I'm afraid it's not that easy, Weston. No one is safe venturing out on the water right now. The storm won't lift till morning.”

“We can't leave them out there in the elements.” His voice rose. “If they lose power completely, they could be hopelessly lost, drifting,” His heart sank further. “Dead in the water.”

Braeden sighed. “I know. But there's nothing we can do right now, except trust them to God.”

An idea dawned.

“There is one thing...one thing I can do to bring them safely home.” Weston clicked the phone off. “And I will with God's help.”

* * *

Over the roar of the wind and waves, Caroline clutched Izzie and sang snatches of an old hymn she remembered her mother singing on stormy nights long ago. Something about a love that didn't let go.

“You see me in the dark.” Caroline's teeth chattered. “Darkness isn't dark to you.”

Izzie tilted her head. “What?”

Caroline tucked the raincoat closer around Izzie. “It's from a psalm. ‘At night, I'm immersed in the light. Night and day. Darkness and light. They're the same to you.'”

At the wheel, her father wrestled against the forces of the storm.

Izzie's cold, damp hand cupped Caroline's cheek. “I love you, Caroline.”

Caroline's eyes pricked with tears too long held, further blurring the night. “I love you, too, Izzie.” Her voice hitched. “So much.”

The engine strained against the power of the wind.

Caroline chewed her lower lip. “I'm sorry, Dad. So sorry for getting you into this.”

Her father softened his rigid stance. “No need to be sorry for anything, Ladybug.”

“Ladybug?” Izzie shifted. “That's what Caroline calls me.”

He laughed. “Two ladybugs you are. Two peas in a pod.” He laid his hand upon Caroline's head.

She closed her eyes against the pummeling rain.

“No need for any more sorrow, Ladybug.” His voice subtly altered. “There is a light that drives out the darkness.”

Her eyes flew open.

“It's the lighthouse.” Izzie gestured at a beam of light starboard side. “We're almost home, Caroline.”

As Caroline's father steered the boat toward its source, the light grew stronger, brighter. She and Izzie held hands.

“Mind the rocks on the point, Dad,” she cautioned.

Her father made a rumbling sound in his throat. “Best you stick to your turtle business, Turtle Lady, and leave me to mine.”

Good ol' Dad. She thanked God some things never changed. Like His great love and the love of her family.

“Clang the bell, Isabelle,” the waterman shouted as he cut the throttle and edged the
Now I Sea
into the lighthouse dock. “Let yer dad know we've come.”

Bouncing out of Caroline's lap, Izzie rang the clapper mounted at the bow of the boat. The sound echoed through the darkness of the night. Light spilled across the ground as a door was wrenched open in the cottage. A man stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“Daddy!” yelled Izzie.

Caroline caught Izzie around the waist before she plunged overboard in her haste. “Hold on, Izz. We're nearly there.” She scrambled off the boat onto the dock and caught the mooring line her father tossed.

He eased the boat closer. “Better tie her down good.”

“Izzie!”

The child's head snapped around at Weston's voice. Caroline's dad stepped out of the boat and helped Izzie maneuver across the gap.

Weston raced toward them. The rain flattened his hair. His shirt clung to his chest. But he had eyes only for his daughter. He gathered Izzie in his arms. “Izzie, baby.” He feathered her bedraggled locks with kisses. “Sweetheart...”

And she hugged her daddy as if she'd never let go. “I'm sorry, Daddy. So sorry.”

Caroline busied herself with the lines. Almost her exact words to her father. Her eyes darted to the waterman.

A suspicious line of moisture tracked down his face. Swiping at his grizzled cheekbone, he snorted at her upraised brow. She smiled and grasped his hand. But she understood.

For Weston and Seth—at last their prodigals had returned home.

A pucker creased Izzie's brow. “I'm in big trouble, aren't I, Dad?”

His mouth trembled for a second before he regained control. “Yes, Monkey Girl, you are.” He cleared the hoarseness from his voice. “But tonight we won't talk about that.” He hugged her close. “Tonight we'll celebrate.”

Weston faced Caroline's father. “I can never thank you enough, sir, for saving my little girl.”

“I piloted the boat. It was Caroline who figured out where she'd gone.”

For the first time, Weston focused on Caroline. “Thank you, Dr. Duer.” He scowled. “I guess this means I owe you, too.”

Sucker punched, she felt her stomach knot. But what had she expected? Her leaving had set this near disaster with Izzie into motion. Weston had every right to hate her.

Her father draped his arm across Caroline's shoulders. “I'm right proud of my girl here, son. As pleased to have her back as you are to have yours home.”

Caroline's heart thudded.

Weston's gaze flicked between Caroline and her father. “Come into the house and get dry. I'll let Braeden know to call off the search.”

Her dad nodded. “And I'll get Sawyer to run out here first light to fetch us with the boat trailer.”

“Good.” Without another word, Weston turned on his heel. Izzie in his arms, he plodded up the rocky causeway toward the cottage.

Staring after them, Caroline slumped against her father.

“No question you love that little girl.” Her father blew out a breath. “Real question is, do you love Izzie's dad, too?”

“For his sake, Dad, I wish I didn't.”

He took hold of her chin and raised it level with his gaze. “For your sake, I'm glad you do.”

“Dad—”

“Weston Clark's had the worst sort of day, daughter.” He drew her toward the cottage. “Thought he'd lost the woman he loved and his child, too. He's confused and hurting. Give him time to adjust.”

She hesitated at the bottom of the stoop. “Maybe I should keep my distance.”

“Don't be afraid of what you feel. Don't be afraid to love him, Ladybug. Just get in there and show him how much you love them both.”

“What if—”

He shook her arm, none too gently. “What if Weston refuses to forgive you? What if he sends you away forever? So what if worse comes to worst?” Her father glowered at her.

Tough love, Seth Duer–style. But he was right. Facing the fear circumvented the anxiety and dealt a deathblow to depression.

She lifted her chin. “Then I guess I won't ever live in the lighthouse.”

“Could be.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “But I'll still have my family.”

“That's for sure.” Her father raised his face to the pouring rain. “But what else, Ladybug? What else you got?”

Caroline stamped her foot on the rocky soil and winced. She'd forgotten she was barefoot. “Then I'll still have my turtles, and my nephews will probably become the most spoiled children in the history of the world.”

She tossed her head. Less effective with wet strands of her hair slapping her cheeks.

“There's my girl. Duers don't quit, do they, darlin'?” He laughed. “Go on.”

He tugged her up the step. “Give that Coastie what for.” She stumbled through the open door and across the threshold.

Weston's shadow filled the doorway. “Ex-Coastie.”

She froze.

He grimaced. “An ex-Coastie dealing with a born here, 'been here who doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain.”

Before Caroline quite knew what hit her, Weston scooped her into his arms.

Weston carried her into the cottage. “Stubborn, know-it-all...”

She nudged her chin at her father. “Could use a little support here, Dad.”

Caroline's dad wrenched the door shut behind them. “I think you've got enough support.” He winked at Izzie wrapped in a blanket in Weston's recliner.

“Not enough sense to wear shoes in a storm...” Weston deposited Caroline on the sofa.

“D-daddy?” she stammered.

“Totally agree.” Her father shrugged. “Common sense ain't that common.”

She blinked. “Seriously?”

Weston towered over her. “Bleeding all over my hundred-year-old floors...”

Sure enough, a bloody footprint at the door marred the hardwood floor. The one step she'd taken before being abducted by this Coastie.

Her father chuckled. “Head always in the clouds. Or in a book.”

She shot him a scathing glare. Her father rolled his tongue in his cheek.

Weston nodded. “Must be why she's so smart.”

Caroline flushed. “Too smart for my own good?”

Weston's eyes flashed. “Izzie assures me she's okay. She's going to her room to get a hot bath.” He scanned her father's wiry form. “You and me are about the same height. You need to get out of those clothes before you catch pneumonia. Feel free to use the phone in my room, too.”

Unfastening his dripping slicker, her dad hung it on a peg inside the door. “I don't aim to catch phew-monia.”

Izzie laughed.

“It'll take more than a summer storm to best this old sea dog.” He looked at his Wellingtons. “What about—?”

“Best get to it, Mr. Duer.” Weston's stern countenance didn't alter one iota. He tapped his shoe against the hundred-year-old floor. “I'll deal with Caroline. I've got a few choice things to say to her.”

She shrank deeper into the cushions. Weston's face was about as ominous as the thundercloud currently hovering over the Delmarva Peninsula.

Throwing off the blanket, Izzie hopped out of the chair. “I'll show you the way, Mr. Seth.” She held out her hand.

“Mr. Seth's” eyes ping-ponged from Caroline to Weston. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw his mustache twitch. “Sure thing.”

Caroline's eyes widened. “But, Dad...” What she wanted to say was,
Please don't leave me here. Take me with you.

Her father saluted Weston as he and Izzie squelched toward the lighthouse stairs. They disappeared from sight.

Caroline's heart sank to her bare toes. And then cringed. Spots of blood also dotted Weston's hitherto white rug.

She scowled. At the rug. At her feet. At him.

And what she actually said was—

“You're real good at giving orders, aren't you, Commander Clark?”

He leaned back, his arms folded across his chest. Those true-blue eyes of his glinted. He clamped his jaw tight, a muscle jumping in his cheek.

And Caroline's heart skipped a beat.

Chapter Nineteen

T
he pipes squeaked overhead as Izzie filled the bathtub with water. With Seth also occupied upstairs, Weston studied Caroline, unsure how to reach her. Unsure how to tell her everything in his heart.

She crossed her arms over her wet shirt. Her hair hung in disheveled hanks to her shoulders. “I must look like a drowned rat.”

He hunched his shoulders. “Even drenched, you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever known.”

She blushed. Not what she'd expected him to say? His chest ached with the desire to cradle her. But first, he had to know.

“Why did you come back, Caroline?” He rocked on his heels. “Did someone call you about Izzie?”

“Yes, but no...” She shook her head. The hair flew into her face and covered her features. “I mean...”

Because he couldn't help himself, he crouched beside the sofa and brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead.

At his touch, she stilled.

“I'd already turned around on the Bay Bridge and was heading home to Kiptohanock when Dad called,” she whispered.

He grunted and abruptly stood.

Striding into the kitchen, he rummaged underneath the sink for a pan. Placing the pan in the sink, he turned on the faucet, ran his hand under the water and adjusted the valve for a warmer temperature. “Why were you already headed back?”

Caroline didn't answer him, but her fingers fretted at the bracelets on her wrist. He gritted his teeth. Her subconscious habit gouged at him.

He dumped half a carton of salt into the pan of water. Lifting the pan out of the sink, he carried it around the island to where she slumped on the sofa. As he knelt on the rug in front of her, some of the water sloshed over the sides of the pan. He settled the pan below her dangling feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Your feet are cut. The salt water's going to sting, but we've got to make sure we kill any bacterial infection.”

She gulped. “I'm sorry, Weston. For yesterday. And for endangering Izzie. For putting her life in peril. Just like Jess—”

“You're nothing like her. I've told you that. And what happened today wasn't your fault. Izzie made her own ill-advised choices.”

Taking hold of her ankles, he eased her feet into the pan. With a quick indrawn breath, she bit her lip. Twin dots of blood trembled on her bottom lip.

“I'm also sorry for yesterday.” Her eyes glistened. “For everything.”

Keeping one hand on her legs, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her mouth. “Everything?”

She closed her eyes and nestled her lips into his palm.

Weston's heart turned over in his chest. “Is sorry all you need to say to me, Caroline?”

Her startled gaze shot up to his. “No... I...I...”

Leaning over her, he removed the quilt from the couch and tucked its folds around her shaking body. He moved toward the kitchen. “You could change into one of my shirts.” He extracted a dish towel from a drawer.

“I don't want your shirt, Weston.”

Weston slung the towel across his shoulder. “What is it you do want, Caroline?” His eyes flared. “Really want? Tell me, because I don't know. And I want to know.”

* * *

Time to face the truth. Weston deserved the truth. No more half-truths or mixed signals. No matter how hopeless everything was, Caroline respected him too much for anything less than total disclosure.

“I want you and Izzie and...” She flung wide her hands. “A life here with you, but—”

“But what?”

Her heart thudded. She had to make him see, to understand why it would be wrong for them to plan a life together. Wrong for him.

“I can't be the wife you deserve. I can't give you the children you want.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“After what you went through with Jessica—”

“Is that what this has been about?” His face convulsed. “You are nothing like Jessica, Caroline.”

She desperately wanted to not tell him. But only then could Weston gain closure. And be free to live the life he deserved. “When my father told me about my grandmother, I realized we could never be a family.”

A line appeared between his brows. “What is it exactly you think you know about your grandmother? Are you sick?”

“Yes, I am.”

His eyes widened. “Cancer, like your mother? Because if it is, I'm not about to let you face that without me.”

“It's not cancer, but the diagnosis is as horrible and as incurable as what killed my mother.”

Weston eased next to her on the sofa. “You told me about the past. There's nothing so terrible we couldn't handle it together.” He took both her hands in his. “I love you, Caroline. Izzie loves you, too. For better or worse, we want to be there for you no matter what.”

“But it would only be for worse, Weston. Don't you see?”

“No.” He clenched his teeth. “I don't see.”

“My grandmother battled depression until the day she finally took her own life. After my mother's death, the grief sent my father into a tailspin it took a decade for him to extricate himself from. I've inherited a predisposition for chronic depression. A genetic curse.”

She fretted at the bracelets until he frowned, and she dropped her hand. “I believed I'd finally conquered the anxiety and depression. But now I realize there will be no getting well. Only stretches of time between breakdowns.”

Caroline hardened her voice. “I won't put you through that. And I'd never pass that terrible genetic weakness on to a child.”

“I don't believe what happened to your grandmother will happen to you.”

She stared at him. “You don't know that. None of us knows that.”

“Exactly.” He took hold of her hand. The bracelets jangled. “People were less accepting of depression in your grandmother's time. There were fewer resources.”

He rubbed one of the beaded bracelets against her flesh. “She probably felt so alone. Never shared her struggles until she was in so deep she couldn't see a way out.”

Caroline's gaze flitted to her hand in his. “But—”

“Your father is one of the best, strongest men I've ever known. Despite this dark enemy he battles, he lives a rich, full life.” Weston threaded his fingers through hers. “You can live a rich, full life, too. You have friends. You have family. You have God.”

A vein pulsed in his throat. “You can have me, too. Don't you understand how much I love you? I love you, with or without any potential children.”

“You say that now.” Her heart hammered. “But what about when I drag you and Izzie into the abyss with me?” Her mouth trembled. “I could never live with that.”

“If you're so afraid...” He fingered the woven cord tied around her wrist. “Then why did you come back, Caroline?” His touch was featherlight against her scar.

The feel of his hand... The tender look in his eyes. Something broke in her heart.

“Because...” Tears cascaded down her face. “Because despite what my head tells me, my heart won't let me forget how much I love you, Weston.”

In a way, it was freeing to finally say the words. And oddly enough, she felt free to breathe for the first time since her dad had told her about their family heritage.

Weston slipped off the couch and knelt once more at her feet. He draped the towel across his knees and moved aside the pan of water. Lifting her feet, he placed them in his lap. Tears dripped off her chin and plopped onto the towel in his hands. Gently, he dried first one foot and then the other. As if she were beloved, precious, cherished.

He held her barefoot in the palm of his hand. “I don't know what the future holds for anyone, Caroline. But what I've learned is that all any of us can do is face the future with trust in the One who holds us—our hopes, our dreams, our love and our lives—in the palm of His hand.”

Weston ran his finger across the top of her foot. “The safest place we can rest. Secure in the knowledge in our faith that no matter what comes, He will somehow bring us through for our ultimate good.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Because you, me, Izzie, we are His beloved, cherished, always precious children.” He closed his eyes.

Praying for her, she realized. Praying for her as she struggled to come to terms with what she'd learned about herself and her family. Should she trust in Weston's love? Could she trust in a God who loved her that much?

Weston's eyes gleamed. “Give me a chance. Let me love you, Caroline.”

Was it possible for someone like her? Truly possible?
Help me, God, to believe... To risk loving them and being loved.

A silence hung suspended between them. A long moment fraught with fear, trembling hope and the possibility of unexpected joy.

She fell to her knees beside him. “Oh, Weston...” Her breath shuddered.

“Will you be my one true love, Caroline? Will you come home to me and stay with me forever?”

Her eyes never leaving his, one by one she removed the bracelets from her wrists. Allowing them to fall away onto the floor. “You are the one my heart's waited a lifetime to love.”

Weston's face transformed, flooded with light and love. He leaned in—

Feet clomped on the stairs. “Have you asked her to marry us yet?” Izzie bellowed.

Smiling, Caroline imagined the little redhead hanging over the curving baluster of the railing.

Weston made a face, but his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “Trying to, Monkey Girl, if you'll give me a chance,” he yelled.

A loud, protracted sigh. “Well, hurry up, then.”

Caroline smothered a laugh at his expression.

“Are you on one knee like they do in the movies, Daddy?”

Caroline arched her eyebrow. “What about it, Commander Clark?”

“You're enjoying this way too much.” His lips grazed her earlobe.

She gave a delicious shiver.

Weston smirked at the lighthouse wall. “I think I can take things from here, Isabelle,” he called.

“If you say so, Daddy. But please don't screw this up.”

Weston sputtered, and Caroline gave in to the laughter.

“Just so you know, I had this really romantic beach picnic planned in my head,” he growled.

“Since when?”

He pushed back his shoulders. “Since I kissed you on the Ferris wheel.”

But Weston obligingly propped on one bended knee. “Caroline Victoria Duer, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife—” he glanced toward the wall “—and Izzie's mother?”

She captured his face between her hands and nodded.

He gave her that lopsided grin that tumbled her insides. “It doesn't count unless you say the word, Caroline.”

The special word.

“Yes...” She smiled. “Yes, please.”

And then he kissed her.