Honeysuckle Bride

“Being in the foster system—it can be tough unless you find a friend.”

The kettle whistled. Jenna turned off the burner and poured steaming water in both mugs. A slight smile tugged her lips as she remembered her first meeting with Carrie.

“I’d been at this home for about six weeks when Carrie showed up. Thirteen years old with an attitude.” She chuckled. “Heavy black eyeliner, a couple of piercings and a wardrobe you’d cringe at. One look from her and I figured she’d make my life miserable.”

“Obviously something changed.”

Jenna blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip of tea. “She’d been there about two weeks when she got caught sneaking back in the house after curfew. We shared a room and I watched her climb out the window almost every night, but didn’t say a word. Our foster mother, Mrs. Thomas, wanted an explanation, and much to my surprise, Carrie froze. Couldn’t think of a thing to say. What happened to the smart aleck I lived with?

“Feeling bad for her, I told Mrs. Thomas, who really wasn’t so bad, just overwhelmed, that I’d forgotten my homework at a friend’s house and Carrie offered to get it for me. I’m not sure she believed my story but she let it slide. After she left us alone, Carrie demanded to know why I’d stood up for her. I couldn’t tell her that my heart went out to this brash girl who’d finally showed a vulnerable side, so I said I did it so she’d owe me a favor. Surprised, because I usually stayed away from conflict, and impressed that I’d stood up for her, especially for a price, she walked over to me and held her fist in the air. I finally figured out she wanted a fist bump. It was a bonding moment for us.”

After that, they’d slowly moved from reluctant allies to true friends. Made wonderful plans for what their lives would become once they aged out of the foster system. For the most part, they’d achieved their dreams, until an accident tore Carrie away from Jenna and the girls.

“Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mom.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if bad mothering was hereditary. Her own mother had an alcohol problem, which made her less than reliable. It took one visit from a caseworker to find Jenna in a barely habitable apartment, alone, with very little food, for her to move Jenna to a new home. When her mother didn’t argue or try to win her back, Jenna began her journey of moving from home to home.

Nealy snorted. “I disagree. I can’t imagine those girls with anyone else.”

“Is this what life is going to be like? Me making mistakes and the girls paying for them?”

“Jenna, give yourself a break. You’ve only lived with them for six months.”

She ran a shaky hand over her brow. “Carrie and I talked about me becoming the girls’ guardian, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think too much about the conversation, but Carrie took it to the next step to assure her children’s future.”

“And in the time you’ve had the girls you expect to be a perfect parent? You think you should know everything there is to know about children and never make a mistake? C’mon, the girls are ten years old. I can guarantee Carrie made mistakes, no matter how much she loved and cared for them.”

Jenna straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She had to do this. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m walking on shaky ground here, but you’re right. It’s getting better, but still, I need time to get used to being a parent.”

“The first step is admitting you have a problem.” Humor sparkled in Nealy’s eyes as she attempted to lighten the moment.

Jenna grinned. “Oh, I could come up with quite a list.”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down. I think you’re doing great. For a single woman busy with her career, you accepted responsibility for the girls no questions asked and embraced the idea of being a mom. Take this break you have from filming right now to grieve along with the girls. Once it’s time for the television season to start up again, things will get better.”

“As long as the tabloid press stays away.” She shivered. “If not for the exposure from my job and attracting a crazy person, we wouldn’t have left the only place the girls have ever lived.”

“No, it was that one idiot reporter. If he hadn’t been so intent on documenting your life—”

“Which is incredibly boring, by the way.”

“—nothing would have happened. You’d still be in LA, filming your cooking show and making guest appearances on talk shows.”

“Honestly, on the juicy gossip chart, I rank about minus eleven.”

Nealy laughed. “Now that is totally true.”

After years of trying to stay invisible in foster homes, never making waves or causing trouble, Jenna had spent her youth feeling like an outsider. Once she grew up, finished school and embarked on her career, she still found herself on the sidelines of personal relationships, with the exception of a handful of people she trusted. As her career took off, she traded obscurity for the limelight, never imagining that her life might be of interest to anyone but herself.

When Jenna gained custody of the girls, it had been a blip in the media radar since she was hardly in the same league as A-list celebrities. Until Rod. It had gotten to the point she couldn’t leave the house without him in her face, asking for an exclusive interview or pictures at home with her and the girls. Only the restraining order could slow him down.

“If he hadn’t gotten so obsessed with us, we would have been fine back in LA”

“Look,” Nealy said. “You’re here. You’re safe. We have your back. Get that awful reporter out of your mind. He’ll latch on to another story and forget all about you.”

He had to. Jenna had based her move to Florida on that hope.

“Just be thankful Wyatt came upon you when he did.”

At the mention of his name, Jenna remembered the terse man who’d come to her rescue, his act of bravery at odds with his sharp parting words. Her skin prickled with indignation. “I’m grateful for what he did, but didn’t appreciate the mini lecture before he took off.”

“That’s Wyatt Hamilton. I’ve known him for a long time, but after the rough few years he’s had, he’s not the most...easy guy to be around.”

“Understatement.”

“You only talked to him for a few minutes.”

“It was a long few minutes.” Jenna recalled the memory. His eyes had been so intense, so judging. “Besides, I wasn’t thrilled he was doing the rescuing while I stood on the beach feeling helpless. I should have been the one to save Bridget.”

“C’mon, Jenna. It’s not like he rushed in the water just to make you look bad.”

True, logic reminded her, but his quick actions had made her feel incompetent.

“Listen, he’s got a lot of baggage, so we all tend to cut him some slack,” Nealy said.

Had her annoyance been so obvious? Jenna sighed. “I guess no one is immune to baggage.”

“Yeah, but his is pretty horrible.”

The crash of ice cubes falling from the freezer ice maker broke the silence following Nealy’s statement.

“Are you going to tell me?” Jenna prodded.

“His son died about two years ago. He was only eight.”

Jenna’s chest tightened. “How awful.” She’d just lost Carrie and the hurt was still so fresh, but to lose a child? She’d only had custody of the girls for less than a year but had known them their entire lives. How would she deal with a loss like his? She couldn’t even imagine the pain he must live with every day.

“It was a boating accident,” Nealy continued. “About six months later, his wife filed for divorce.”

“I’ve heard that happens sometimes when parents lose a child, but a double whammy? No wonder he has issues.”

“He’s still so torn up.”

“You said you’ve known him for a long time?”

She nodded. “Yes. Wyatt grew up here, so we were all devastated by his loss. My sister told me he disappeared right after the funeral. About four months ago, a friend of ours, Max Sanders, met up with Wyatt and talked him into coming back. Now Wyatt captains a fishing charter boat, but I think he’s only going through the motions, not really living.”

“I don’t know what to say. Poor guy.” Jenna sipped her tea, her heart breaking for a man she didn’t know. “Where does he live? I think the girls and I will bake cookies as a way of saying thank-you.”

Nealy’s eyes grew troubled. “I’d rethink the idea. He’s kind of a loner.”

“Even loners who disapprove of my parenting skills need to eat.”

“Jenna’s answer to all and every problem. Food.”

“What can I say? It’s who I am.”

Jenna had discovered her love for cooking early on when she helped out in each foster home she’d lived in. In high school, she’d worked for a catering company specializing in weddings and loved it. Who knew food would turn into a career?

“Which I, for one, am happy about,” Nealy said. “You’re still going to make your gourmet mac and cheese for the welcome party, right?”

“Yes. You might be an event planner extraordinaire, but you can’t boil water.”

“We can’t all be gifted in the kitchen.”

“True.” Jenna smiled. “Thanks for throwing a party to welcome us to Cypress Pointe. It’s nice of Dane to hold the shindig at his hotel.”

“Anything to show off the Grand Cypress. Of course, it does help that he’s wild about me.”

Jenna laughed. “I still can’t believe he came to LA with you to pack up your belongings. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never believe just how crazy Dane is about you.”

She also couldn’t imagine a love that strong and found herself a bit envious.

“After being apart for so many years, we have a lot of catching up to do. And besides, he’s happy to have the party for you.”

“I gotta say, I thought the guest of honor only had to show up and meet her new neighbors, not bring the food.”

“True for most mere mortals, but you make a mean mac and cheese. Since I’ve bragged about your culinary prowess nonstop since you told me you were moving to town, you can’t show up empty-handed.”

“Fine. Besides, you know I would have brought something even if you didn’t ask.”

“Yep, so why not put my order in?”

Jenna admitted that spending time with Nealy went a long way to easing her insecurities.

Nealy glanced at her watch. “I need to get going. Will you be all right?”

“Yes. And, Nealy?”

Her friend raised her eyebrows.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Anytime.” Nealy swooped in for another hug. “Actually, all the time now that you’re here in Cypress Pointe.”

Jenna’s heart lifted with affection for her friend. “I hope I don’t become a nuisance.”

“Unlikely. Once you figure this motherhood thing out, you’ll feel better.”

Jenna crossed her arms over her chest, rubbed her chilly forearms. “We’ll see.”

“Hey, quit with the gloom and doom. You can do this.”

“You’re right.” Jenna dropped her arms. Tilted her chin. “I can do this.”

“That’s my friend.” Nealy walked to the front door. “Don’t forget. Tomorrow night. Six. Grand Cypress Hotel.”

“Got it.”

Nealy’s smile softened. “I promise, once you meet my family and get to know the wonderful people in Cypress Pointe, you’ll be glad you came.” That said, she swept out the door into the hot, humid August night.

Watching her friend get into her car and drive away, Jenna tried to take Nealy’s confidence in her to heart. She could do this, right? Be a single mom? But the doubts and worries continued nagging at her. Take today, for example. As much as Wyatt’s response made her angry, he was right. She had to do better.

Still, grief weighed on Jenna. As much as she tried to keep a sunny outlook for the girls, at times, the sorrow took her to her knees. Mostly in the quiet, late at night after the girls went to bed and she only had herself for company. Missing Carrie, asking why she’d been taken from them at such a young age, made it difficult for Jenna to find any kind of normalcy in her life. And it was even worse for the twins. As much as Jenna tried to console them, at times her efforts seemed ineffective. Lacking. And with two strikes against her when it came to the girls’ safety, she couldn’t afford any more close calls.

More unnerved than she cared to admit, Jenna marched back into the kitchen to rinse out the mugs. Resting her palms on the sink ledge, she leaned forward, staring out the window. The moon emitted a small sliver of light, barely illuminating the backyard.

Lately, the direction of her life seemed just as dark. As it had numerous times tonight, the scene at the beach flashed in her mind.

Next time you might not be so lucky.

At the memory of Wyatt’s parting words, she straightened her shoulders. No way would she let his prediction come to pass.

Nealy was right. She had to stop second-guessing herself. Enough worrying over the things she couldn’t control. Time to focus on what she could do. With the single-mindedness that had gotten her through years of foster care and then advanced her career, Jenna vowed to be the best mother possible for Abby and Bridget.

CHAPTER TWO

“GUESS WHAT I have planned for today?” Jenna said at breakfast the next morning,

The girls sent each other a questioning glance. The silent twin communication freaked Jenna out. She’d probably never understand it, but whenever it happened, self-doubt twisted in her. Once again, she found herself on the outside. Unsure. Not very motherly.

“Why don’t you just tell us?” Abby asked.

“Because it’s a good surprise.”

Bridget frowned. “You told us you don’t like guessing games.”

Holding back a sigh, Jenna said, “You’ve got me there. But for today, let’s play.”

“We aren’t going to the beach again, are we?” Bridget asked before taking a spoonful of cereal.

“No. I think we had enough fun in the sun yesterday.”

“Our new school?”Abby asked.

“No. I already registered you so we’re good.”

Abby pushed the cornflakes around her bowl. “Shopping. You promised we can get new stuff for school.”

“I know I promised, and we will go to the mall, but you’re still not close.”

“I give up,” Bridget informed her with a very mature sniff.

Jenna bit back a grin. Was she ten going on sixty? “So soon? We just started.”

The girls stared at her.

Jenna threw up her hands. “Now I give up.”

“So you’ll tell us?” Abby asked with a giggle.

Despite yesterday’s close call, the girls were in a cheery mood today. Most mornings the twins would hide out under the makeshift tent they’d built in the bedroom. Missing their mother, the girls sometimes refused to leave their safe place. Jenna learned from the counselor in LA that this was part of their grieving process. Back home she would have tried to coax them out of the tent with the promise of a special breakfast or plans for the day if she wasn’t scheduled to film or meet with her agent. Some days her tactic worked, others not so much. Today, the girls came to the breakfast table the first time she called. A small victory in Jenna’s opinion, but a victory indeed.

“You knew I’d give up if you did. No point in teasing when you aren’t willing to play the game.”

Bridget shrugged.

“Fine. Then here’s the answer. Bridget, remember the man who pulled you out of the water yesterday?”

Bridget kept her eyes focused on her cereal bowl. “Yes,” she said in a quiet tone. “He was really brave.”

“Like the prince in the story you read to us,” Abby piped in.

“Yes, I guess he was like a prince. Saving my beautiful princess here.”

Abby giggled.

A slight grin tugged Bridget’s lips.

“Anyway, I was talking to Nealy about him last night and the idea of making a thank-you gift popped into my mind.”

“What are we going to make?” Abby asked.

“Cookies. Then I thought we’d deliver them in person. That will give you a chance to thank him yourself.”

Jenna moved to the fridge, taking out the ingredients she needed to make a batch of cookies. “Do you know where he lives?” Abby asked.

Jenna, in mid-reach to retrieve a measuring cup from the cabinet, glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll call Nealy to find out.” She brought the cup to the counter then turned to face the girls, who had grown quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked.

Bridget shot her sister a glance then lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”

Abby, her eyes shimmering, met Jenna’s. “We might not have been exactly honest about being able to swim.”

Jenna rested her hip against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “You told me you had taken lessons.”

“Well...we were going to. We never got around to it before mom...you know.”

Yes, she did. How could she be angry with the girls when they were still grieving? Every day brought a new tangle of emotions. Yet as hard as it might be, Jenna had to lay down some ground rules. She walked to the table and took a seat.

“Look, girls, I know things have been hard, but you have to tell me the truth. If I had known you couldn’t swim, I never would have let you in the water by yourselves. How can I take care of you unless you’re completely honest?”

The girls exchanged glances again. What Jenna wouldn’t give to know what was going on in their heads.

“How about we make a pact to be honest with each other?” she suggested.

Abby blinked at the tears making her eyes bright. Of the two, she showed her emotions more easily. “We miss Mommy.”

“I do too.” Jenna swallowed. In her own way, she understood the depth of loss the girls experienced. In her case, her mother had chosen to walk away, leaving Jenna bereft and angry. Abby and Bridget felt the same, but at least they had Jenna to turn to for comfort.

Taking a shaky breath, she said, “It’s okay to miss her.”

She took one of Abby’s hands in hers and squeezed. Then she turned to Bridget, whose lower lip trembled. How like her to be the strong twin when her heart was breaking. Jenna drew them all together. “This is it, kiddos. We’ve got each other now.” Turning her tone from sympathy to firm, she said, “So, the pact?”

After a hesitant moment, Abby said, “From now on we promise to tell you stuff.”

Bridget didn’t utter a word, the tougher nut of the two. Not surprised, Jenna knew she’d have to keep an eye on her.

They sat holding hands for a long, drawn-out moment until Bridget shifted in her seat. Jenna released her hold, briskly rubbing her hands together as she rose. “Let’s get working on our project, girls.”

How many times had they made cookies together? More times than Jenna could remember. When Carrie was alive, they’d had frequent sleepovers with Jenna, which always included some kind of baking session.

The girls joined her and they worked side by side, measuring, stirring, then spooning batter on the baking sheet before sliding it into the oven. A dozen cookies later, with the final sheet in the oven, they’d finished the messy part of their task. Standing on tiptoe, Bridget turned on the faucet to fill the sink before squeezing dish detergent into the rising water. Suds materialized as Abby dropped in the batter-covered utensils.

Proud of the girls for cleaning up without her asking, Jenna said, “Hey, you two, I’ll finish up. Go play.”

“Are you sure?” Abby asked. “We don’t mind helping.”

“Yep. You’ve both been great, but I can take over from here.”

The girls scurried from the room. As Jenna removed the last batch of cookies and turned off the oven, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and frowned. She didn’t want to answer, but knew her agent wouldn’t stop calling until she spoke to Jenna.

“Barbara. How are you?”

“Cringing at the number of appearances I have to refuse on your behalf.”

Tension tightened Jenna’s temples. They’d had this conversation one too many times since Jenna informed her agent she was taking time off. “And you’ll have to keep refusing until the hiatus is over.”

“Absence from the public eye does not make the viewer grow fonder.”

“The girls are my priority. I don’t know how much clearer I can make the point.”

Barbara Samson had been Jenna’s agent for four years. An energetic go-getter, she never heard a “no” she paid attention to. Until Carrie died, Jenna didn’t have any reason to turn down work. Now that she did, Barbara was persistent about changing Jenna’s mind.

Right out of culinary school, Jenna landed a job at a trendy restaurant that became a popular hangout for celebrities. At first, she was one of the minor chefs in the kitchen. She stuck it out there and eventually, her unique culinary ideas became popular with the in-crowd. When one of the local talk show hosts inquired about her, the restaurant owner quickly encouraged Jenna to be a guest on the show. He couldn’t pay for better publicity.

Not exactly thrilled at first, Jenna thought long and hard before agreeing. She didn’t like crowds or being the center of attention. But when she arrived on the set, she found the hosts and crew welcoming. Her nerves settled down. Soon, she went from being a guest every couple of weeks to guest shots on other shows, including a popular LA daytime talk show. Not familiar with the world of television, she asked one of the hosts for advice. The person mentioned Barbara’s name. Jenna called, set up an appointment. Before she knew it, Barbara had booked her schedule tight and, eventually, landed the cooking show.

As much as Jenna appreciated those opportunities, it didn’t mean she’d let the woman railroad her into any future projects until she was ready. She’d made good money and put enough away so she and the girls were financially stable until she decided her next move.

“I totally get your stand on the girls,” Barbara said. “Doesn’t mean you can’t fly to LA or New York periodically. You know, to keep your name in front of the public. The girls don’t have to travel with you.”

“And I won’t be separated from them. It’s too soon.” Barbara went quiet for a moment. As Jenna removed the cookies from the aluminum sheet to cool, she could only imagine the whirl of her agent’s mind as she came up with another way to cajole Jenna.

“How about online? You can work from home.”

“Right now I don’t want to do anything to alert the tabloid news magazines. I won’t risk it.” She took a breath. “I understand you don’t like it, but I’m asking you to honor my decision.”

A long, melodramatic sigh came from the other end of the line. “Fine. But I can’t promise I won’t call if a worthwhile offer comes in.”

Jenna didn’t expect differently. “Just don’t be upset if I turn you down.”

“The one you can’t resist will come and when it does, you’ll be out here on the next available flight.”

While Barbara had other clients, she couldn’t afford to let her main moneymaker go on hiatus, no matter how noble the reason.

“Thanks, Barbara. I do appreciate all you’ve done for me. Just think of my time away as a small vacation. It’s not the end of our relationship.”

“So, how are things going? You’re settling in?”

“Yes. The girls are happy. So far I like this little town.”

“Little, as in, are there any museums? Fine dining? Theaters?”

Jenna chuckled. Barbara could be a fine-arts snob. “We manage.”

“I couldn’t leave LA, no matter how much anyone tried to convince me otherwise.”

Jenna fought the temptation to remind Barbara about the tabloid reporter making her life miserable. Jenna viewed his intrusion as a personal attack on her family. Barbara saw him as a necessity for the expansion of Jenna’s career. If he tailed Barbara for any length of time, Jenna was sure the woman would change her tune.

“You’re a great agent. Hopefully you’ll get some new clients while I’m away.”

“I’ve fielded a few calls.”

“See. With me gone, you’ll have the chance to develop your next big star.”

“Yes, there is a strong possibility I can make that happen.”