Authors: Marie Force
The fact that the woman he loved was Joe’s mother only made things more complicated in some ways and simpler in others. He couldn’t pine for the mother of his boss, and he couldn’t have her because she couldn’t handle the age difference between them—or her son’s potential disapproval.
If this were happening to someone else, Seamus might’ve found it comical. But there was nothing funny about this kind of heartache. For the first time in the more than two decades since he’d come to this country as a teenager, he was thinking about going home to Ireland. Nothing here made sense anymore. One night with Carolina Cantrell and his entire life had careened off course like a car that lost a wheel on a curve.
He had a posse of sisters, so he’d certainly witnessed heartbreak before. However, he’d learned it was an entirely different experience when it happened to you. It sucked the life out of a body. It kept you awake at night, thinking about what might’ve been. It made it nearly impossible to enjoy any of the simple pleasures that used to make life worth living. Food didn’t taste the way it used to. Even his favorite Irish whiskey didn’t appeal. He was a wreck, and he couldn’t continue to function in this condition. Thus his conclusion that the only possible solution was to leave.
Walking with his hands in his pockets and his head down, Seamus approached the ferry landing deep in thought, which was why he didn’t see the object of his desire leaning against a piling waiting for the boat that carried her son and daughter-in-law to arrive. He didn’t see her until he was nearly on top of her, until it was far too late to avoid seeing her for the first time since Luke and Syd’s Christmas Eve wedding.
When he recovered his senses, he realized she looked even better than she had then. She’d cut her hair, and the shoulder-length style suited her. Ironically, it made her look younger. For some reason, it pleased him that she seemed as stunned to see him as he was to see her.
“I, um…” she said. “Joe and Janey…”
“They’re on the boat.” He nodded to the ferry approaching the breakwater. “Word tends to get out when the boss makes a car reservation.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.”
“How’ve you been, Caro?”
“Oh, well, busy. You know.”
“Did you make that?” he asked of the elaborately beaded necklace she wore.
When her fingers covered the beads, he noticed a slight tremble. “This? Yes, a while ago.”
“It’s quite lovely.” He kept his gaze fixed on her face as he said the words, and watched, mesmerized, as a flush crept into her cheeks.
Realizing he was getting to her, he decided to try one last time. Maybe the passage of months had had the same effect on her. “I’ve missed you, Caro.”
As he watched her process what he’d said, she glanced at the ferry and smiled.
Realizing the moment between them had passed, Seamus followed her gaze and saw Joe at the aft controls, guiding the ferry into port. “Just like riding a bike,” Seamus said with feigned lightness.
“He’s been a natural from the time he was a young boy. My father went on and on about how he’d had to show him only once, and he got it. He just got it.”
Listening to her talk about her son, Seamus finally got it, too. She’d made her choice a long time ago. She’d chosen her son, and nothing he said or did would ever change her mind. It was time to cut his losses and move on.
“Nice to see you, Carolina.”
“Nice to see you, too.”
“Have a lovely visit with your son and his wife.
Walking away from her, Seamus ached worse than he had before, if that was possible. But at least he had his answer now. He knew what he had to do.
Chapter 8
Hoping to run into Tiffany, Blaine accepted Mac’s invitation to stop by for dinner. The family was welcoming Joe and Janey home for the summer with a cookout that included all the McCarthys, Ned and Francine, and Joe’s mom, Carolina. When he arrived, Blaine couldn’t believe how disappointed he was to learn that Tiffany had stayed home because Ashleigh had a stomachache. He couldn’t wait to see her after his shift.
“Are you enjoying the last few weeks of sanity?” Big Mac asked Blaine over burgers on Mac’s deck. Because he was on duty, Blaine was nursing a soda rather than the beer he’d prefer.
“It seems to start earlier and earlier every year,” Blaine said. “We’ve already had a couple of kids with alcohol poisoning on the town beach and lots of open container citations. Wyatt, my newest patrolman, stumbled upon a couple of kids getting busy out at the bluffs two nights ago. I think he’s scarred for life.”
Big Mac roared with laughter. “Poor kid.”
“He may as well get used to it. Such is police work on Gansett Island.”
Joe came over to shake hands with Blaine. “Good to see you, buddy.”
“You too. Congrats on the impending arrival.”
Joe glanced over at his pretty blonde wife, who was hugely pregnant and clearly miserable. “Not sure how we’ll survive three more months. Janey’s already had enough of being pregnant.”
Blaine’s radio crackled with a call from dispatch. He winced when he heard the address. “I’ve got to run,” he said to Mac, who was tending the grill. “Thanks for the burger.”
“Any time. Come back later if you’re free.”
“Will do. Thanks, Maddie.”
“See you later, Blaine.”
He bounded down the stairs from the deck to his SUV. When he reached the main road, he flipped on the lights and siren while calling for backup. Daisy Babson’s neighbors had called the police. Again. Anxious to get to town before Daisy’s abusive boyfriend could hurt her, Blaine pressed the accelerator to the floor.
By the time he pulled up to Daisy’s rundown place in town, the neighbors were standing outside, listening to the fight rage on inside.
“Back it up, folks,” Blaine said. “Give us some room.” The sound of breaking glass had Blaine taking the stairs two at a time. He pounded on the door. “Police. Open up.” More crashing of glass and other items, along with thumping and a muffled cry. “Open up, or I’ll take the door down.”
Wyatt pulled up in his cruiser, and Blaine gestured for him to hurry. When the patrolman was in position on the other side of the door, Blaine drew his weapon and kicked in the door. Daisy was huddled on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, her face and hands bleeding. She looked up at him with big, haunted gray eyes. Her boyfriend, Truck—aptly nicknamed because he was built like one—held a glass vase over his head. His tattooed biceps bulged from the effort to restrain his rage. If he brought that vase down on petite Daisy, he’d kill her.
“Freeze, Truck.” Blaine had gotten there just in time. “Don’t even think about it.”
Truck seemed almost surprised to see him, which was no surprise to Blaine. The big man was known for his meth-fueled rages, and Blaine had been trying to get Daisy to leave the abusive relationship for as long as he’d been chief of police.
“Get the fuck outta here.” Truck’s eyes were red and crazed. “You got no business here.”
“When you’re beating up your girlfriend and destroying her home, I got business here.”
“I ain’t beating her up. She’s getting mouthy with me—again.”
“Put down the vase slowly,” Blaine said. “I want your hands on the back of your head. You know the routine.” To Wyatt, he said, “Call the paramedics for her.”
By the time the ambulance arrived a couple of minutes later, Blaine had Truck cuffed and on his way to the station with Wyatt. After ensuring none of her bones were broken, Blaine lifted Daisy free of the glass. She was so tiny he barely had to strain to pick her up.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I promised you I wouldn’t let him in again, but he was so sweet and so sorry. I’m such a fool.”
“Don’t apologize, Daisy. I know you love the big lug. For some reason.”
“Not anymore I don’t. He broke my grandma’s china.” A new flood of tears wet her bruised and battered face. “That was all I had left of her, and now it’s gone.”
“We can help you get free of him, Daisy, but you have to want to. The next time he comes around looking to kiss and make up, you have to be strong.”
“I know,” she said with more conviction than he’d ever heard from her. “No more of this. No more of him.”
Blaine carried her out to the paramedics and shielded her face from the gathered crowd of neighbors. He deposited her gently on a gurney.
“Hi, Daisy,” Libby, one of the volunteer paramedics, said. She, too, had been here before.
“Hi, Libby.”
“Show me where it hurts,” she said as she got busy cleaning the cuts on Daisy’s hands and face.
Blaine stepped out of the ambulance and placed a call to David Lawrence. “Sorry to bother you at home, Doc, but I’ve got Daisy Babson on the way to the clinic.”
“Again?” David asked.
“Afraid so. She’s going to need some stitches.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” Blaine ducked his head inside the ambulance. “Is there anyone you want me to call for you, Daisy?”
She shook her head, as she always did.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t want anyone to know.”
“I have to file a report, and I’ll need you to appear in court.”
She’d done it before, so she knew the drill. “I know.”
“I’d hate to see you go through this alone. You have friends.”
“Fine. Okay. Call Maddie.”
“McCarthy?”
Daisy nodded.
“I’ll have her meet you at the clinic.”
“Thank you.”
Her quiet dignity got to him every time. He’d gleaned a few facts about her past that had led him to believe that she didn’t think she could do any better than a violent drug addict named Truck.
“Everything will be okay, Daisy,” Blaine said. “We’ll take good care of you. Don’t worry.”
“That’s right, Daisy,” Libby said as she discreetly produced a tissue that Daisy used to dry her tears.
“You all are so nice to me when you must want to shake me for taking him back. Again.”
“We don’t want to shake you,” Blaine said. “We want you to be safe, and we want to help you make that happen.”
“Let’s get you to the clinic,” Libby said.
“I’ll follow you.” Blaine stepped back from the ambulance and closed the doors, rapping on the side of the vehicle when the doors were secured. “Show’s over,” he said to the neighbors. He took a minute to secure Daisy’s front door as best he could and placed a call to Mac.
“Hey, didn’t I just see you?” Mac said when he answered.
“Yes, you did, but duty called, and I need to borrow your wife.”
“What for?”
“A friend of hers had a bit of trouble tonight and could use some support.”
“Which friend?”
“Daisy from the hotel.”
“Oh jeez. Truck again?”
“Yep.”
“Shit.”
“Could you ask Maddie to meet us at the clinic? Daisy is pretty busted up, and she’s in for a long night.”
“She’ll be right over.”
“Could your folks stay with the kids for a bit?”
“Sure. What else do you need?”
“We broke down Daisy’s door to get in there before he killed her.”
“Say no more. I’ll get it fixed.”
“Thanks, Mac. Appreciate the help.”
“Happy to do it. Daisy is so sweet. I can’t imagine how anyone could raise a hand to her in anger.”
“I can’t imagine how any guy takes his frustrations out on a woman. Happens far more often than you think, even here in paradise. Thanks again for the help.”
“Any time.”
Blaine called for a patrol officer to stay at Daisy’s house until Mac got there. As soon as the officer arrived, Blaine gave him his instructions and headed for the clinic. On the way, he left a message for Tiffany to let her know he had to cancel their plans for later. This was going to be a long night.
David arrived at the clinic a few minutes ahead of the ambulance and set up an exam room with bandages and a suture kit. Hearing Daisy had been beat up again had him agitated and furious at her so-called boyfriend. After the last time, he thought he’d been successful in convincing her to leave the abusive relationship.
While he hated to hear that Daisy had been hurt again, he was glad to have something to take his mind off the fact that his ex-fiancée was back on the island with her devoted husband and due to deliver their first child in a couple of months. He’d heard from Victoria, the nurse practitioner/midwife he worked with, that Janey planned to have the baby in Ohio, which was a huge relief.
Ever since he’d saved Mac and Maddie’s baby Hailey when she arrived blue and not breathing during a tropical storm, the McCarthys had been a lot less chilly to him than they were after Janey caught him in bed with another woman. But it wasn’t like they were all bosom buddies or anything. Luckily, the island was big enough that he didn’t cross paths with them very often, and when he did, everyone was cordial enough.