But it was his plea that they make a baby together that had her figuratively walking on air. Her rationale was that, if she couldn’t marry him, then having his child came a close second—all of which detonated once he admitted he wanted the baby for his wife.
It was apparent that Weylin had underestimated her when his family’s attorney called her a scheming, manipulative ghetto bitch because he had been so certain that she would continue to bend to his client’s will. Ghetto bitch or not, Cherie had had enough. Enough of becoming a floor mat for a man she would never be able to claim as her husband.
Cherie had told herself never again. Never again would she trust a man, and she was now resigned to live her life as a single woman, doing what she wanted and what was good for her emotional well-being. She flicked off the television and the bedside lamp and settled down to get some sleep before her drive to Coates Island to close and take possession of her new home.
* * *
Cherie walked up the steps to the two-story house with off-white vinyl siding, robin’s-egg-blue shutters, a gunmetal-gray slate metal roof, and an expansive front porch. The structure had been built to withstand hurricanes and tropical storms, though they rarely, if ever, struck the island. Unlike the beachfront homes, her house wasn’t built on stilts.
She unlocked the front door and stood motionless, staring at the yawning space with highly polished wood floors as the scent of lemon wafted to her nostrils. The former owners had arranged to have the floors redone and the house cleaned from top to bottom, because not only had Cherie met their asking price, but she also had been willing to wait for them to complete building their house in Hawaii.
An overwhelming feeling of joy held her captive as she struggled to draw a normal breath; she closed the door and walked through the entryway and into the living room with a wood-burning fireplace. The family room off the living room also had a fireplace. The open floor plan concept was perfect for living and entertaining, and she couldn’t wait to host a book club meeting in her new home, but that wasn’t going to become a reality until everything she’d ordered was delivered. The condo’s living room furnishings would go into the family room, and her bedroom furniture would occupy one guest bedroom. The table and chairs in the condo’s dining area were perfect for the alcove in the expansive eat-in kitchen. She still had to order a bed, night tables, and dressers for another of the two guest bedrooms, and the smallest of the four bedrooms would eventually become a home office.
Cherie had ordered a new queen-size mattress to replace the one on which she’d slept when she’d moved into the condo, while she had also ordered a king-size bed, triple dresser, chest-on-chest, and a padded bench seat she planned to position at the foot of the bed in the master suite. She climbed the carpeted staircase to the second story. The enormous second-floor master bedroom had a spacious sitting area and French doors that opened out onto a balcony that offered views of the ocean; it was the perfect place for her to begin and end the day.
The en suite bathrooms in the master and one of the guest bedrooms were a spa retreat, with freestanding rain showers, soaking tubs, double vanities, and built-in shelves for storing towels and beauty products. She returned to the first floor and opened the door to the built-in refrigerator to discover it spotless; its only contents were two open boxes of baking soda.
Cherie had retraced her steps to her vehicle to unload her luggage when she spied a woman waving to her from a house across the street. Smiling, she returned the wave, and the tall, slender woman took it as a signal that Cherie wanted to meet her.
There was something about woman as she came closer that reminded Cherie of Leah because of her red hair and freckles. The woman’s smile was still in place when she extended her hand.
“Kate Murphy told me you would be moving in today. I’m Bettina Wilson.”
Cherie took her hand. A network of fine lines deepened around Bettina’s brown eyes. “Cherie Thompson.”
Bettina pulled the bulky sweater around the blouse she’d paired with well-worn jeans and tattered leather moccasins. “I couldn’t believe it when Kate told me a young woman was buying her house because we don’t get too many young folks willing to settle down here on the island. Once my kids graduated high school, they were out of here. My husband and I decided to stay after we retired. I happen to like my home, as well as the fact that we don’t have to leave to go on vacation to some tropical island when we have it right here.” She paused to wave to a slowly passing car withSHERIFFemblazoned on the side door. “That’s our new deputy sheriff, Reese Matthews. He really isn’t new to Coates Island; he grew up on the mainland. He went into the army right out of high school and came back last year to join the sheriff’s department, where his cousin is the chief.”
Cherie hadn’t spent more than two minutes with the woman to conclude she was a gossiper, and for her, that was one of the drawbacks of living in a small town. Most folks knew something about someone, and it was probably just a matter of time before Bettina gleaned things about her Cherie did not want her to know, and that meant she had to be very careful whenever they had a conversation.
“It’s nice to know that the island has police protection.”
Bettina nodded, her short reddish curls moving with the motion. “There’s hardly any crime here on the island. It’s on the mainland where the deputies are kept busy.”
Cherie glanced at Bettina’s house. It wasn’t one of the newer structures on the island but appeared to be in good condition. Window boxes and a wraparound porch added to its quaint charm. She’d spent her first vacation on the island in the local boardinghouse, and earlier in the summer, she’d rented a bungalow because she had come to value her privacy.
“It’s nice meeting you, but I need to take some things inside. I want to settle in before the movers bring my furniture tomorrow.” Other furnishings were scheduled for delivery over the first three weeks in January.
“You’re more than welcome to join me and my Andy for dinner tonight if—”
“Thank so much,” Cherie interrupted, “but I have plans to eat with some of my friends tonight.”
Bettina gave her a wide-eyed stare. “You have friends on the island?”
“Yes. It’s the reason I decided to move here.”
The other woman’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I see. If that’s the case, then I better let you get on with moving in. The invitation is open for dinner. I do make a delicious kidney pie, if I say so myself.”
“Thanks again for the offer,” Cherie repeated. She wanted to tell the woman she rarely ate organ meat, but did not want to appear ungrateful. And she was glad that she’d mentioned she had friends on the island because hopefully Bettina would take the hint that she did know people on Coates Island with whom she could socialize.
Bettina nodded. “I’ll let you go get settled in. Remember, if you need anything, I’m right across the street.”
Cherie just wanted the woman to leave her alone so she could unload her car. And she also wanted to drive to the Seaside Café before it closed. It took three trips for her to unload the cargo area of the Honda CRV before she slipped behind the wheel to drive the short distance to the café.
Girl, what have you gone and done?Cherie felt a shiver of apprehension eddy through her as she stared out the windshield. It was as if she could hear her grandmother’s voice chastising her whenever she’d gotten into something she’d being warned to stay out of or away from. Was Grandma chiding her for running away rather than staying and fixing her life?
Chapter 4
Cherie maneuvered into a parking space at the Seaside Café and then walked around the building, which was erected on stilts, to the front door. Aside from the white van with the name of the restaurant emblazoned on the doors, there were four other vehicles in the lot, all bearing North Carolina license plates. It was a reminder that she had to exchange her Connecticut plates for ones from her new home state.
