Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

H ARPER WANTED TO turn her wheelchair around and go in the opposite direction when she spotted Charlotte coming her way on the trail. Avoiding people was her default and so much easier than dealing with them. Still, Charlotte was smiling and waving, and that meant she likely hadn't tracked her down for a lecture or a dumb-assed pep talk.

Plus, the trail was still too narrow here for a turnaround.

It was easier to be civil when there weren't many other options.

"I'm glad you're using the trail," Charlotte said. "How are you this morning?"

"Clearly, not as perky as you." And Harper might have had the computer add something about the perkiness being because Cal had stayed the night, but Charlotte beat her to it.

"Cal," Charlotte provided. "He's better than morning coffee."

Harper settled for a grunt and typed out, "Does your mother feel that way?"

Charlotte laughed. "Probably not. Izzie would prefer I provoke less gossip." She paused, and Harper figured saying that had taken a poke at a bad thought.

Like the thought that she might not have that "better than coffee" man around for long.

"Izzie was here earlier," Charlotte continued a moment later, and that caused Harper to rethink her conclusion about the reason Charlotte had paused. "She had a PI track down my father, and she gave me his phone number. The PI also found out he'd divorced your mother about a year after they left."

So that's what this visit was about.

"I'm not sure if your mother's still in the Phoenix area, but I thought you might want to know," Charlotte added.

"I already knew," Harper spoke aloud, causing the surprise to flash in Charlotte's eyes. Harper shrugged and went back to the computer. Using the keyboard seemed to remove some of the emotion of what she was saying. "I hired a PI years ago, shortly after I went into the Air Force. He found her, and I went to see her."

Charlotte's surprise went up a notch. "Uh, how did that go?"

Harper wished she'd prepped a snarky Who the hell cares about my mother? response, but with no prep, she went with the truth. "Badly." She voiced that but typed the rest. "She was quick to say I always took my dad's side and never hers. That I made her feel as if I was his daughter and not hers. Basically, she blamed me for cheating on her husband and walking out."

"What?" Charlotte blurted.

"Don't worry," Harper voiced, cutting off what would have almost certainly been Charlotte's No way protest. "It was bullshit." And because, hey, emotion, she went back to the keyboard to finish. "She was a weak woman, and by then your dad had long dumped her, so she was looking for someone else to blame."

"I'm sorry," Charlotte managed to interject before Harper could add to her account.

Harper shrugged. "FYI, she didn't know where your dad was. If she had..." She stopped, shrugged again. "I might have gotten around to telling you. That's about when I entered the phase of buying into my dad's hype that I could be the best if I tried hard enough."

Harper instantly regretted that confession when Charlotte patted her hand, and she quickly typed out, "Don't worry. I'm fine." Then she went with an equally quick question to shift the conversation. "What are you going to do with your dad's phone number?" she typed.

"I already trashed it," Charlotte announced, smiling again. She opened her mouth to say more, but the sound of shuffling footsteps stopped her.

Oh, joy, it was Alden. That was Harper's initial snark reaction, and she wished she could hang on to it. But her reaction was plenty lukewarm. Or even worse.

Shit.

She was actually glad to see him. Great day in the morning. What was this about? Better yet, could she stomp it to smithereens? She'd certainly try.

He was poking along toward them with a walker, one with tennis balls over the nonrolling feet. He'd hooked his cane over one of the side bars, and next to that, there was a duct-taped tablet with a purple plastic case.

"Sorry," he said. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No," Charlotte assured him. "I need to go to my office in town and meet with a client."

Harper figured that was possibly the truth, but she also detected that gleeful glint in Charlotte's eye, so it was possible she was heading out to give her and Alden some alone time. This could be either a lousy matchmaking attempt or Charlotte might be giving Alden a chance to test out his counseling skills.

"This is for you," Alden said once Charlotte was gone. He removed his cane from the bar, using it for support while he inched the walker toward her. "It'll help you get upright."

She scowled. "Maybe I don't want to get upright."

"It'll be easier for people to see your scowl if you're eye to eye with them."

That was probably the only thing he could have said that would have gotten her to consider using it. She used a firm grip on her chair to hoist herself up. Not easily. She wasn't sure there were usable bones or muscles in her legs so there was a colossal amount of wobbling involved. To his credit, Alden didn't try to take hold of her or attempt to steady her. He just held on to the walker with his free hand so it wouldn't slide away from her when she took hold of it.

The movement caused a rush to her head, making her dizzy and her stomach churn a little. She waited until that had passed, waited a little while longer until she tested out the scowl/eye-level theory. It worked. She scowled at Alden...and then practically dropped back down into the chair.

He grinned and pulled out a plastic bag that he'd tucked inside his shirt. "Four fresh snickerdoodles," he said. "Maybell just baked them, and I managed to snag us some before the workers got to them."

Even a snarly mood wouldn't have put her off one of Maybell's cookies, so Harper accepted the one he handed her and bit into it. Maybell never disappointed.

"Why do you take shit from your dad?" Alden asked.

The question seemingly came out of the blue, but she figured he'd been wanting to throw it at her for a while. He was probably just waiting until she was in a better mood. Or experiencing a sugar high.

It wasn't the answer he likely wanted, but clamping the cookie between her teeth, putting the other on her wheelchair arm and standing, she scowled and then dropped back down, saying, "Because I'm clearly a glutton for punishment. Or maybe just a glutton," she answered using the voice of her tablet.

Alden chuckled and chowed down on his cookie. He didn't repeat his question, didn't do the raised eyebrow or dole out even a mild "I'm waiting for a response" huff. He wasn't pressuring her.

Which was probably why Harper answered through the tablet. "Because my dad was right about what he said. He stayed, and my mom didn't. Because he wanted me enough to stay, and she didn't."

He seemed to consider that a moment. "So, what...you think you owe him just for being a parent who lived with you?"

"Don't I?" Harper countered, but she no longer felt as if that question deserved a resounding yes . Heck, it might not even deserve a lukewarm maybe . Still, she wasn't so far removed from her connection to her dad that she couldn't understand what drove him. "He can't handle anything but the best from me," the computer voiced for her.

Again, he took a moment to consider that, then another moment to finish off the first cookie. "Is this the best you can do right now?"

She finished off her cookie as well and did her own considering. "This is pretty much it," she said. "Barely able to stand and only for a couple of seconds. Barely able to speak." She used her own voice to prove her point. "And so much shame and guilt that I'm not sure I deserve anything better."

Harper hated she'd added in that last bit, especially since it'd come through her damaged throat. It sounded wounded. Crushed.

Finished.

She steeled herself for the pitying look that Alden would almost certainly dole out. But he didn't. He smiled. "Then it's your best."

Harper blinked and was instantly wary this was some kind of trick. "Did you hear the part about drowning in shame and guilt?"

"I heard," Alden confirmed, adding a shrug. "But all of that is still your best for now." He plucked out another cookie, took a bite and then handed it to her. "Remember that the next time your father shows up."

C HARLOTTE WALKED INTO her law office and froze. The creatures, aka the dolls, were on seemingly every single inch of every single desk. One of them had either fallen or been tossed into the trash can, and its creepy eyes peered out over the rim.

"Sorry," Mandy was quick to say. She came up from behind Charlotte, who was still in the doorway, and Mandy was carrying yet another armful of the blasted dolls. Charlotte hadn't noticed her car when she'd driven up so she must have parked at the side of the building.

"Why are these here?" Charlotte demanded.

"Your mom ditched the whole notion of preserving local crafts and asked me to come and get them from the storage room in town hall. They were freaking out the cleaning staff. I was going to toss them, but then Frank Merkins heard about them and said he wanted them for the haunted house he sets up at the park every Halloween. He asked me to save them for him and said he'd be by later today to get them."

Charlotte couldn't dispute that they'd make a spooky addition to a haunted house, but she hoped Frank was quick about the pickup.

"Oh, and Velma Sue Parsons was here a couple of minutes ago," Mandy went on. "She took one look at the dolls and said she might sue you for nearly giving her a heart attack."

Charlotte sighed, not at the prospect of being sued: Velma Sue was true to her middle name and often made that threat. In fact, the reason the woman was coming in for an appointment was to talk to Charlotte about suing the US Postal Service for paper cuts she got from junk mail they'd delivered.

When Velma Sue had called to make the appointment a few days ago, Charlotte had told her up front that her chances of winning such a case were nil, but that hadn't put the woman off. Apparently, though, the dolls had. It almost made her want to keep a couple around to prevent future visits from the woman.

Almost.

"Velma Sue said she'd call you to reschedule once these ugly things were gone and that she'd go up the street to Carson, Elder and Carson for the lawsuit against you," Mandy continued, dumping the latest armful of dolls onto the already cramped desk. Another of them toppled into the trash, landing next to the peeking one.

Charlotte wasn't bothered in the least about Velma Sue. The dolls, however, were a different matter. Apparently, there was some soft trash beneath them because the combined weight of the pair caused them to shift, sink and jiggle. Not at a jolting pace, either, but a slow slide lower into the trash.

"Now that Velma Sue has canceled, that means you don't have another appointment for an hour," Mandy explained. "Guess you can catch up on paperwork in your office."

It'd definitely have to be the office since Charlotte didn't want to work next to the dolls.

"Or you can stand at the window and drool," Mandy added a moment later.

Charlotte turned away from the dolls to see what had prompted Mandy to say that, and yes, it seemed drooling might ensue: Cal was walking toward the office. Cal, the cowboy in his Stetson, jeans, boots and shirt that fit just fine over his amazing muscles. He had a cardboard carrying tray with three to-go cups in one hand and a clear plastic bag in the other that revealed what she was certain was a stash of doughnuts from Desi's Diner.

"I'm not sure how you can think straight when you look at him," Mandy remarked. "I mean, look at him," she said on a sigh.

Charlotte wasn't at all sure she did think straight around Cal. Probably not good, especially considering how this could all end between them, but it was hard to have coherent thoughts with all the buzzing in her head, the fluttering in her stomach and her heart skipping beats and all.

Since both of his hands were full, Charlotte opened the door for him, and all those reactions jacked up even more. That's because she had more than a visual of him. There was his scent, clearly created to stir every sexual nerve in her body. It was especially potent today since it was mixed with the smell of sugar and caffeine.

"I was at the diner and saw your car," he said.

Now she had sound to add to the visual and scent. His voice—yes, it had her hormonal number.

"Velma Sue was in the diner, too," Cal explained, "and she was going on about canceling her appointment and suing you because of the dolls, so I thought you could use these." He held up the coffee and bag of doughnuts, and he only cringed a little when he looked at the dolls. "Desi knew what you usually order, so that's what he fixed."

"A coco-mocha choo choo?" Mandy asked, reaching for the cup with her name on it. Charlotte knew it was basically a triple chocolate latte.

"Yes," Cal verified, handing off the bag of doughnuts to Mandy. "I watched Desi make it. And I thought you might need this." He gave her a spoon he'd tucked on the tray and shifted his gaze to Charlotte. "Irish breakfast tea for you."

"Thanks," she muttered, and while Cal took out his own coffee—which she knew would be black—it occurred to her that he'd brought this over to soften some bad news.

Or rather bad news for her.

After all, he'd left her bed just a couple hours earlier because of the call he needed to make to his commander. It was possible that during that chat, he'd decided to accept Audrey's job offer. If so, then yes, bad for her but good for him. Good for all those people he'd end up helping, too.

He glanced around, perhaps looking for a place to sit. Or a place for a private chat, and Charlotte tipped her head to her office. "In here."

Mandy handed off the rest of the doughnuts to her. "I'm going to finish this and head over to the bookstore to pick up something. I'll be back before our next appointment, but I can lock up so that lookie-loos wanting a peek at the dolls won't just come strolling in." She added a smile to that.

Charlotte was reasonably sure there'd be no lookie-loos and the lockup was so she and Cal would have some privacy. Which was why she agreed to Mandy's plan. Privacy was the way to go if she was about to hear her fling with Cal would soon be over. A fling where she'd fallen in love.

Dang it, this was going to be bad.

Cal and she sipped their drinks and didn't say anything until Mandy had put the Closed sign on the door and left, doing the promised lockup.

"How'd your visit go with your mom?" he asked in the same moment she asked, "How'd your call go with your commander?"

So they apparently had more than one topic to discuss, and he motioned for her to go first. Charlotte put it in a nutshell since she was far more interested in what Cal had to say.

"My mother located my dad in Phoenix, but I decided I didn't want to reach out to him. And I'm in a good place, not only with that but also with my mom."

Cal raised an eyebrow. "A productive visit."

"It was. And your call? Was it productive?" she asked.

He didn't respond for several seconds. "My commander gave me his opinion of the job. He thinks I should take it. But he said that if I didn't, he'd be glad to hang on to me awhile longer until my next assignment." He paused again. "I told him I was thinking about this being the last assignment and that I was strongly considering getting out."

"And?" she prompted when she couldn't take the suspense of not knowing.

"And I also told him I was strongly considering staying in," Cal admitted.

There it was. All spelled out. Well, sort of. Cal still hadn't made up his mind, but just three and a half weeks ago, he'd been certain he would leave the military. Now that wasn't the case. While part of her, her blasted in-love heart, wanted to encourage him to stay, that might not be the right thing for Cal.

She needed to let him know he had an out with her if he wanted it.

"I do those pros-and-cons lists when I'm trying to make a decision," she said.

She motioned for him to follow her into her office, and she took out a pen and a notepad. Charlotte jotted down Pros for leaving the Air Force on one side of the page, and Cons on the other.

"Cons first," she started. "You don't get to save lives." She jotted that down.

His forehead bunched up, and he set his coffee aside, took the pen and under Cons, he scratched out her response and wrote Someone else will get to save lives . Under Pros, he made an addition. Being near my family. And you.

Oh, this was going to be hard, but she had to offer it. Had to. "You can have your family, me and the military. The family and I will be for just thirty days out of the year and the trips where we can travel to see you, but it's a way for you to have it all."

Cal immediately shook his head. "I can't ask you to do that. It's what you did for Noah."

Charlotte moved closer, slipped her arms around him and looked him straight in the eyes. She could say so many things. Like, what she felt for Noah had been a drop in the bucket compared to what she felt for Cal. Like, she could wait until he'd filled every spot on his bucket list as long as he came back to her in the end.

She could spell out that she would even go with him if it weren't for her obligations here. That would create a different kind of heart-crushing for her to leave Port in a Storm just when it'd gotten off the ground.

But Charlotte didn't say any of that.

Instead, she kissed him.

Yes, in some ways that was a cop-out, but it was an amazing one. Because this was Cal, and a kiss with him never felt wrong. Just the opposite. It couldn't have felt more right.

Or hotter.

That heat was instant, too. It came stampeding through her, and just like that the urgency followed it. Cal certainly felt the same way, because there was no resistance. He dove right into the kiss as if it were a Goodbye and a Welcome home all rolled into one.

Charlotte decided to go with that.

If this was goodbye sex, then she would make it count. She would make it memorable, which wouldn't be hard to do, because, hey. This was Cal. Memorable was the norm with him.

Unfortunately, even really amazing kisses didn't create finesse and good balance, because they stumbled and landed hard against her door. Charlotte was certain she would've seen stars from the pain that shot through her shoulder, but the heat had a way of taking care of such aches. The heat had a way of taking care of everything.

The finesse continued to take a hiatus. So did any slow, lingering foreplay. This was all fire, all speed. And yet the amazing factor was still there.

With the kisses raging on, she managed to get his shirt off. He managed to get hers off, and then his tongue kissing her neck caused the desperation to kick in. Need and desperation was a volatile mix, so she went for his zipper. He shoved up her skirt.

Somewhere in all the tongue kisses and franticness, they landed on her desk. Pens and paper clips bounced and pinged as they hit the floor. Charlotte ended up with her back on her closed laptop. Cal ended up on top of her. Again, no complaints from either of them, especially when Cal fumbled in his pocket and came out with a condom from his wallet. He'd kept his promise about keeping one there.

They put that condom to good use when he freed himself from his boxers and put it on. Then he pushed inside her. Coherent thoughts vanished, and Charlotte was all for that. All for the soaring pleasure. All for the way her body just accepted and gave. Until she and Cal could accept and give no more. Until they finished, the climaxes flashing through them and turning the incoherency into a beautiful, blissful haze.

Charlotte would have gladly stayed in that haze for at least a couple of minutes. Or at least until her breath stopped gusting, but there was an annoying sound cutting through her beauty and bliss. And it wasn't just one sound but two. Ringing and a vibrating rattle. It took her a moment to realize the sounds were coming from both her and Cal's phones.

That definitely couldn't be good.

Since he still had on his jeans, Cal was able to get to his phone first. "Alden," he relayed. And Charlotte was plenty close enough to Cal to hear what Alden said the moment Cal took the call.

"Cal, we've got trouble. Paul just showed up, and he's trying to take Harper."