Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove. Sarah Bennett

nodded. ‘Of course. I meant what I said to her. She can stay at Honeysuckle Cottage for as long as she needs to.’ It was fully furnished, even if the décor was outdated and a little tired. Dave and Karen had left the bedrooms mostly intact and the contents of his flat had been enough to fill the gaps created by the furniture they’d taken with them. Single man and spinster might be a clash of styles, but he doubted the children would notice, or that Kiki would care about any decorative shortcomings. There was plenty of food in the fridge and it would take five minutes to make the beds up if Kiki took him up on the offer of a place to stay.

      Daniel nodded. ‘Cheers, mate. We’ll let them sort it out between them when she gets here.’ He checked his watch. ‘Jordy will be here with the lads any minute, might as well get on while we can.’

      Aaron had just crossed the yard to the barns with a thermos full of coffee when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He fished it out, unable to stop a sigh of relief at the three-word message from an unknown number. On our way. Continuing inside, he showed the message to Daniel, then made his way over to where their young project manager waited. ‘Where do you want me?’

      ‘First floor, if that’s all right with you? Plaster should be dry enough to start undercoating in Suite One.’ Suite sounded grand for the studio apartments which would house visiting artists, but the specs Daniel planned for them were of a high enough quality to carry it off. The main painting would be carried out by qualified contractors, but Aaron was happy to turn his hand to the grunt work where a strong back and decent work ethic were all the skill a man required.

      He grabbed a pair of loose-fitting white overalls and tugged them on over his shorts and shirt, then made his way up the temporary staircase to the mezzanine above. Some helpful soul had already taped dust cloths across the newly laid laminate flooring. A box of disposable shoe covers sat on the table next to an industrial tin of undercoat and a set of rollers. Music drifted from an adjacent room, a familiar song already threatening to be one of those catchy summer hits the stations seemed to play every five minutes. It was still just the right side of new enough not to be annoying and he hummed along to the tune as he started to work. If he tried hard enough, he might even convince himself it was just a day like any other, though the flutter of anticipation in his gut told a different story.

      He received two more texts during the day from Kiki, noting her progress when she stopped for petrol and a break. Richard had been dispatched to the station to collect his wife and Mia, and the two women were busy in the kitchen cooking up a welcome meal. Mia was insistent that Kiki should stay at Butterfly House, and Aaron had left Daniel to argue it out with her. Personally, he agreed with his friend that cancelling guests was a bad move so early into a new venture, but it wasn’t his call to make.

      Richard had agreed with him and they’d retreated to the barn to tidy things away. It was make-work really, as Jordy ran a tight crew and they kept the work area in good order, but it would keep them out of trouble. Madeline had no such qualms about voicing her opinion and agreed with Daniel that Honeysuckle Cottage would be the best place for the new arrivals. She’d even gone so far as to offer Aaron a room at their place, and a small, selfish part of him hoped Kiki would take the cottage just so he could have Madeline fussing around him. She was a force of nature, a whirlwind of kindness who’d swept both Aaron and Luke into her makeshift family. Her affection for him was a bittersweet balm to the wounded boy who lurked in his soul. If only Cathy could do the same.

      ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,’ he murmured under his breath. Gravel crunched outside and he and Richard gravitated towards the open door of the barn. A dark-blue hatchback sat on the driveway. Sunlight reflected off the windscreen, making it impossible to see the interior. Aaron started towards it, but hung back when the kitchen door of Butterfly House flew open, disgorging Mia, with Daniel and Madeline close on her heels. She ran for the car and tugged the driver’s door open with a cry of welcome.

      ‘Stand back darling, give poor Kiki chance to get out.’ Daniel placed his hand on Mia’s shoulder urging her to make some space.

      A slender figure emerged, and Aaron found he’d closed the distance between himself and the car without noticing. The woman, Kiki, skirted the open door and half fell into her sister’s waiting arms. Her profile afforded him teasing glimpses of her features, a button nose, the same slightly prominent chin which gave Mia’s face a heart shape. Same deep-brown hair, although Kiki’s looked a lot longer than Mia’s spiky mop from the tangled knot at the back of her head.

      Gentle sobs rose from the pair, but when Kiki lifted her head to glance at him over her sister’s shoulder, her cheek was tear-free. He raised a hand, and she offered him the ghost of a smile. His chest grew tight; the tiny tilt of her lips transformed her face. Too pale, too haunted with those dark shadows ringing her eyes, but damn, she might just be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. A beautiful woman who wasn’t even a day free of her unhappy marriage. Get a bloody grip, Spenser.

      ‘Mummy?’ A little boy, his pale skin and wounded eyes a match for his mother’s, clambered out of the back of the car.

      ‘I’m fine, poppet. Can you give your sister a hand?’ Kiki tried to disentangle herself from Mia, but Madeline was quicker.

      ‘I’ve got her.’ The older woman opened the opposite door as Richard hurried to her side to lend a hand. ‘Hello, darling. Look at your pretty dress, don’t you look gorgeous? Shall I help you with your buckle?’ Keeping up a constant stream of light chatter, Madeline fussed and flattered the little girl as she helped her out. Perched on Madeline’s hip, brown hair a riot of curls around her head, Charlotte cast a wary eye over the gathered group of strangers. Her lower lip wobbled and her face screwed up in an expression Aaron well remembered from when Luke was that age. A heart-rending wail split the air and fat tears began to roll down her plump cheeks.

      ‘Oh, Charlie, don’t cry, sweetheart.’ Kiki broke free from Mia’s arms and rushed to her daughter’s aid. She gathered Charlotte into her arms and rocked her back and forth, kissing her head and whispering endearments to try and soothe the fractious child.

      A light touch on his arm caught Aaron’s attention and he stared down into Matthew’s big, blue eyes. ‘She needs Mr Bunny.’

      Aaron crouched down so they were the same height. ‘Mr Bunny?’

      The boy nodded. ‘He’s magic, he takes all the sad things away. Mummy packed him in the boot by mistake.’

      ‘We’d better find him then, eh?’ Aaron rose, turned to grab the keys from the ignition, then circled to the rear of the car. He pressed the unlock button and slipped his hand under the handle to release the catch.

      ‘Careful! It’s a bit full…’ Kiki’s warning came a fraction too late and Aaron found himself grabbing for half a dozen overflowing carrier bags as they tumbled from the top of the haphazard pile crammed into the small space. His lightning reflexes, honed on the rugby pitch, saved the day, or so he thought until the thin material of the supermarket bag hooked on his little finger began to tear. With his arms spread, trying to hold everything else in place he couldn’t do anything other than watch the orange plastic turn white as the weight of its contents stretched it beyond breaking point. Shoes, clothes and, well, hello, a flamingo-pink bra fell to the ground.

      Tearing his gaze from the scrap of lace trailing over his foot, he looked up into a pair of horrified, amber-flecked eyes. The little girl resting on Kiki’s hip let forth another howl of utter wretchedness and Aaron had to bite his lip to stifle an inappropriate laugh. He looked from the embarrassed woman, past the tear-stained moppet, down to the solemn-faced boy at his side and back again. If he did nothing else, he’d put smiles on all their faces before the summer was through. ‘Welcome to Butterfly Cove.’