A Family Under the Stars Read online

  Like a greenhorn camper who didn’t know better, Alex dropped his flashlight onto the bed of pine needles under his feet. One arm encircled her waist to draw her closer and the other hand shaped itself around the nape of her neck, feeling her muscles stretch and contract as her head angled and dipped for more of his kiss.

  He would never get enough of her. He might as well relish the heartbreak that was sure to come, because feeling Charlotte’s body pressed so fully against his was worth all the emotional fallout he’d have to deal with later. Alex now knew how the poor rainbow trout they’d caught today felt after going for the bait only to find out he’d been hooked. It was just a matter of time before Charlotte would humanely throw him back, as well. But he could no more refuse her than he could stop the rapids.

  A sweet moan sounded in her throat and, without releasing the kiss, he walked her a few steps backward so that she was positioned against a sturdy ponderosa. He slid both of his hands down to her hips before lifting her up higher, his arousal centered firmly against the core of her heat. He groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter.

  His fingers were sliding into the waistband of her pants when a flammulated owl in the branch above them hooted, offended by their using its home for their less-than-stealthy reunion.

  Charlotte’s head whipped back and thunked against the bark of the tree, confusion replacing the desire he’d seen in her eyes just a second ago. He would’ve taken a step back had her legs not been so firmly tangled around him. Another hoot sounded, along with a mild ruffling of wings.

  “It’s just an owl,” he whispered, planting his hands on her waist to steady her as she regained her footing. He looked up toward the creature, annoyed by the continuing interruption, yet equally thankful that the wise bird had stopped history from repeating itself.

  If it hadn’t been for some know-it-all nocturnal tree dweller just a few feet above them, he would’ve made love to Charlotte again, right here in the middle of a dark forest with their families nearby.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, then sucked in gulp of air, trying to get his breathing to return to normal. “I never should have done that.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice sounded formal and way more controlled than his own. “I was the one who started it.”

  Of course she would be too polite to allow him some well-deserved guilt. Or maybe she just hadn’t been as affected by the kiss as he’d been.

  “But I took it to the next level,” Alex said, trying to read her response. He wanted to emphasize his understanding of their initial agreement, but maybe he could subtly mention whatever feeling this was that he’d thought they shared. “We’re supposed to be cutting strings, but every time I look at you this knot between us gets bigger and more complicated, and I worry that we’re never going to be able to unravel it.”

  “Maybe our lives are just meant to be intertwined,” she suggested, and he tried not to let the bubble of hope float from his heart to his eyes.

  “Someone like you would never be happy living in a small town, occasionally hooking up with some rough-around-the-edges outdoorsman like me.”

  Several beats passed, followed by Charlotte’s mouth forming into a tight line, probably trying to come up with a way to let him down easily. Finally, she said, “That’s not true. Sugar Falls is a wonderful town.”

  Her failure to address the other half of his observation wasn’t lost on him. “But...?” he prompted.

  “But my job is in San Francisco. The girls’ school, their friends, their art and dance lessons are there. When I was growing up, I vowed that I wouldn’t be like my parents. I would always put my family first. I worked too long and too hard for them to have a stable, comfortable home that actually feels like a home and not a coldly decorated museum or a lifeless dorm room. It’s why I started blogging and became a lifestyle expert—so that I could create a loving and warm place for them to live. I can’t uproot them from everything I’ve created just because I want to sleep with some guy.”

  Some guy. The words stung, but at least he now knew that’s all he was to her.

  Biting back a response that would only embarrass him further, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back to the campsite.

  * * *

  Hooking up?

  Occasionally?

  One minute, Charlotte had been burning up in his arms, the next, her blood was running cold at his description of what would amount to a sex-only relationship. She would’ve been less insulted if he’d at least suggested they be friends with benefits. Friends? Ha. He hadn’t even made an actual invitation for her to move to Sugar Falls. Rather, just a flimsy dismissal of why she wouldn’t want to.

  A hint of familiarity followed by a flood of shame washed through her when she realized her parents had been training her for this her whole life. To be a trophy child, a trophy wife. And now, Alex was all but suggesting she be a trophy fling—someone who didn’t require anyone’s personal investment of love or time.

  So her response had been an effort to save face and to explain that she’d never uproot her whole world simply for the occasional night in a tent with Alex Russell. Charlotte deserved more than that. And so did her daughters.

  Coming on this camping trip had been an error in judgment. Yet, kissing Alex once again had been a mistake of epic proportions. Unfortunately, before she could maintain a shred of her pride, he walked away from her.

  He didn’t argue with her, he didn’t apologize again, and he definitely didn’t declare his undying love for her. Not that she could blame him. Alex’d made it clear from the day they’d met. What was it he kept saying about strings? He didn’t want anything tying him down? The problem was, Charlotte was suddenly left feeling like an anchor looking for a ship.

  When she returned to her tent, seeing her daughters snug in their bright, cocoon-shaped sleeping bags gave her some comfort. She had these sweet girls; she didn’t need Alex or any other man to complete her world. The world she’d made for herself.

  Charlotte climbed into her own bed, determined to put the kiss in the woods out of her mind. But instead of falling into a blissful slumber, she fell victim to her own memory and replayed every single moment, every single caress. She tossed and turned, praying the loud shifting of nylon material wouldn’t wake anyone else up.

  She wanted to blame the owl, who was still out there mocking her, every hoot alluding to the less-than-wise decision to ever get involved with Alex Russell. The sound of the river rushing along over rocks nearby should have helped lure her to sleep. Instead, it made her think of how she’d sunk under the rapids, the rough, churning water disorienting her. Just like when she’d fallen out of the raft two weeks ago, she was now in way over her head.

  Charlotte didn’t know how or when she finally succumbed to sleep, but both her daughters—as well as a host of birds and forest creatures—started chirping nonstop when the sun came up. Today was Tuesday, and Vic had explained that on Monday evenings, the hydroelectric plant closed off the flow of water from the dam at the north fork of the Sugar River for a twenty-four hour period. Therefore, the water would be calm enough for the girls to go wading and play in the inner tubes Commodore had promised to inflate for them.

  Charlotte walked the girls to the designated ladies’ area in the woods, and when she passed by the tree that Alex had lifted her up against, she purposely averted her gaze, causing herself to stumble over Audrey, who was pretending to be a pinecone. At least when her daughter had been the teapot, she’d let out a warning whistle.

  When they returned to camp, Charlotte saw that Alex’s level of avoidance was much stronger than hers because he wouldn’t even look in her direction. But at least he wasn’t allowing his discomfort with her to affect how he treated her children. He took the girls down to the river and showed them how to use the portable water purifier to refill t
heir plastic bottles, and she had to command her heart not to crumble into a million pieces.

  While everyone was occupied, she did what she always did in awkward situations. Or any situation. She made food. Charlotte whisked up the batter for blueberry pancakes, then poured the first batch into a cast iron skillet. As they were cooking, she cracked eggs into muffin tins and sprinkled them with freshly ground pepper and chives.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked Commodore, who was staring at the plump, fresh blueberries she’d brought along as though they were contaminated with deer droppings—which she was now too familiar with, thanks to Elsa’s insistence on collecting all things found in nature.

  The older man grunted a response, then dug around in one of the storage containers she hadn’t packed.

  “If you wanna cook with so much fruit, why don’t you use these?” He handed her a jar of maraschino cherries.

  “Because,” Vic said, walking up and taking the jar from his father. “Our bodies would hate us if we filled them with that much food dye at once.”

  “Some of us just have stronger bodies, I guess,” Commodore said, then clamped down more tightly on his toothpick. In the light of day, he wasn’t looking much better than he had last night. His normally tan, weathered skin had a grayish tint and his sharp green eyes seemed out of focus.

  “If you don’t want the berries, I’ll make a batch of plain pancakes for you,” she offered the older man, whose grimace turned to a half smile as he winked at her.

  She found a little enamel pitcher and heated the maple syrup, then laid out a blue gingham tablecloth on the ground so she could stage the breakfast plates. Vic picked up the camera and began taking pictures for her, which allowed her to concentrate on the more important task, which was providing food and comfort.

  Sure, writing about recipes and decorating was her job, one she was good at and enjoyed. But preparing these meals outside for her daughters and the Russell men didn’t feel like work. It felt like being home in her own kitchen, hosting a small, intimate party for her closest friends.

  And feeling like that was dangerous because it wasn’t real. Just like her fantasy of Mitchell being the perfect husband and them having the perfect home and family hadn’t been real. After two years of marriage, she’d foolishly thought she’d had her life set up the way she’d always wanted it, only to find out her husband had been a complete fraud. His investment schemes, his excuses for missing so many dinners because he was working late at the office, his pleas for forgiveness when he had to make an emergency trip to the Cayman Islands the night Elsa was born—all of it was a farce. No matter how badly Charlotte wanted to design her surroundings, she couldn’t allow herself to be blindsided by the truth after it was too late.

  Today’s truth was that Alex wanted nothing more from her than a one-night stand. Which she’d agreed to initially. But now her building physical attraction to him was playing havoc with her rational thinking and she should’ve stepped back and looked at the big picture before she saw him standing there in the forest last night in all his sexy woodsman glory.

  Charlotte shook her head. Clearly, last night’s fairy tale talk was getting to her. She was about to call out for the girls to wash their hands when she noticed Commodore down on a knee, his dry, spotted hand clutched against his chest.

  “Com?” She ran to the older man’s side, noticing the deep white lines around his mouth. Her fingers were trembling as she placed them on his slumped shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Just. Heartburn.” His words came out in gasps and he tried to wave a hand at her, but his arm couldn’t seem to move.

  “Here, lie down.” As she eased him back against the grass, she felt the dampness of sweat seeping through his flannel shirt. She wanted to yell out for help, but didn’t want to alarm anyone. “Let me get Vic and Alex.”

  “Nah,” Com said, his gruff voice barely a whisper. “I’m. Fine.”

  She could tell by the effort he was making to get each word out that he wasn’t fine at all. Luckily, Vic must have seen what was going on and was sprinting across the campsite, her camera bouncing from the strap around his neck.

  “Dad?” he asked the old man. “What hurts?”

  “Chest. Feels like. A train. On it.”

  “Go get the first aid kit,” Vic ordered her, his tone composed, but forceful. Charlotte went right away, no longer concerned that the girls, who were now racing behind Alex on their way up the river bank, would be alarmed. All of her worry was saved for Commodore.

  “I think he’s having a heart attack,” Vic said when Alex dropped to his knees beside his grandpa at the same time Charlotte returned with the first aid kit. “There should be some aspirin in there. Give him one and get ready to start CPR if you need to. I’m going to the ranger’s station to radio in for a medevac.”

  “Just...” Commodore tried to say again, but the roar of Vic driving off in the ATV cut him off.

  “Don’t talk, Com,” Alex said, lifting his grandfather’s head. “Charlotte, hand me an aspirin. Elsa, go get me that bottle of water we just filled.”

  Alex checked the older man’s pulse as he calmly issued instructions to both her and the girls. “Put the aspirin on his tongue. Give him another sip of water. Grab him a blanket. Find the emergency flare kit, just in case.”

  Everyone was assigned a task and once they’d completed it, Alex would give them another. Charlotte was about to ask why he needed Audrey to go count how many marshmallows they had left when she heard a sound she didn’t think she’d ever hear again. The thwop-thwop-thwop of the rescue chopper.

  Wiping away tears of relief, she gathered her daughters to her and huddled with them against the wind as the pilot set the helicopter down. Two paramedics wearing flight suits and helmets jumped out and, carrying narrow yellow stretcher, did a squatting run toward them.

  Charlotte couldn’t hear what the medics were saying to Commodore and Alex over the turbine engine; however, when they loaded the older man onto the gurney, Elsa pushed past her and ran to Com’s side.

  “He’s my great-grandpa,” Elsa yelled out to the paramedic as she snatched Com’s weak hand in her smaller one, carefully stroking the stub of his half thumb. “I’m coming with him.”

  Another chunk crumbled off of Charlotte’s heart.

  “Sorry, but no family members allowed on the aircraft,” the medic replied, and Charlotte bit her lip to keep from pointing out that they weren’t truly family anyway. “We’re taking him to Shadowview since that’s the nearest trauma center, and you can see your great-grandpa there.”

  “Wait,” Elsa shouted, pointing to the oxygen mask. “When he gets that thing off his face, he’s gonna want one of these.”

  Her daughter pulled a toothpick out of her pocket and handed it to the paramedic. More heart crumbling. At this rate, Charlotte would be lucky to get back to San Francisco with half her organ still intact.

  She let the wind whip her bangs into her eyes and took each of her daughter’s hands in her own, watching as the tail rotor whipped to life again. When the helicopter lifted off, she turned to Alex and saw that he was standing on the other side of Audrey, her tiny palm enveloped in his big grasp.

  If Charlotte hadn’t been so worried about Commodore, she might’ve laughed at the fact that she’d spent the morning warning herself about falling for the pretense that she and Alex could share anything more than one night in a tent. Yet here they stood, holding hands with her daughters, looking like the epitome of a caring and concerned family.

  Like a perfectly staged scene, Charlotte didn’t know what was real and what was just for appearances anymore.

  Chapter Ten

  The second he’d seen Commodore lying on the ground with Charlotte kneeling next to him, Alex’s world had been shaken like never before. Sure, they’d had their share of seri
ous injuries on past camping trips and this wasn’t even his first medical evacuation. But none of those other incidents involved his grandfather. His family.

  “He’ll be fine,” Alex said, more to himself than to reassure Charlotte and the girls. “He’s a tough old coot.”

  “But I wanted to ride in the helicopter with him,” Elsa folded her arms across her chest. “What if he gets scared?”

  Little Audrey tugged on his hand and pointed to the copse of trees.

  “Here comes Grandpa Vic now,” Alex said, then rolled his eyes at his own use of the honorary title. “We’ll pack up the campsite and meet Com at the hospital. How does that sound?”

  He looked at Charlotte, to see how she would react to his presumptuous offer to take the girls to an emergency room. Her eyes were a mix of blue and purple, as if she hadn’t quite made up her mind, and she bit her lip before saying, “I doubt it would be proper for us to go with you guys. It probably should just be family.”

  “But we are his family, Mommy.” Elsa stomped her foot, her chubby cheeks turning an angry shade of pink. “Tell her, Grandpa Vic. We’re your family, right? Tell her Com would want to see his granddaughters at the hospital.”

  Audrey grabbed his father’s hand, her tear-stained face turned up to his. Alex knew there was no way he’d be the one to say no to these two little girls and wasn’t surprised to see his dad lift up the smaller child. “Why don’t we start packing our supplies and loading the ATVs? I’ll talk to your mom. Okay?”

  Charlotte’s daughters scampered to their tent and Vic turned to him. “How bad was he?”

  “The paramedic said it was too soon to tell, but Com was still fairly responsive when they arrived.” He attempted to shrug his shoulders as if they didn’t weigh a ton. “So that should be a good sign.”