All You Need Is Love Read online

  Will gave his brother the last word on the matter and said good night. He took a shower and got into bed but lay awake for a long time trying to decide if he had the fortitude to make this situation with Cameron into something more than a chance meeting in the mud, complete with a moose and a ruined pair of suede boots.

  He puzzled over the pros and cons—and there were far more cons than pros—for a long time before he finally drifted off. His last conscious thought was that he couldn’t wait to see her in the morning.

  CHAPTER 7

  We planted the corn before the fence was built.

  —The gospel according to Elmer Stillman

  Cameron was awakened by loud noises outside her window just after four a.m. She got up to see what was going on and saw a snowplow clearing the inn’s parking lot of a huge amount of snow.

  “That really has to be done at four a.m.?” she muttered, annoyed by the noise and astounded by the sheer volume of snow.

  Since she was now fully awake, she got back in bed and fired up her e-reader to do some reading. That usually worked to make her sleepy again. Now, however, rather than concentrating on her book, she found her mind wandering to the evening she’d spent with Will and Max.

  Thinking about Will made her feel almost giddy, which was something she’d rarely experienced, especially where guys were concerned. After three failed relationships in the past, she tended to be a nervous wreck whenever she was involved with a guy. She was always waiting for disaster to strike. Since the third and most epic disaster two years ago, she tended to keep her relationships at a surface level that didn’t require anything that smacked of true commitment.

  Lucy was always after her to take a chance, to dig deeper, to not let the past dictate the future. Yada, yada. Three times burned did things to a girl’s psyche.

  Cameron hadn’t had the urge to dig deeper in a very long time. Until she met Will Abbott and suddenly wanted to know everything there was to know about him—and his family. That hadn’t happened in years, and it had never happened this fast, which was another thing to be frightened about.

  She could already tell Will was different from any other guy she’d ever known. The things that made him different also made him fascinating to her. For one thing, he was completely out of tune with all things pop culture as well as with technology, two of the cornerstones of her life and the lives of just about everyone she knew. That made him all the more interesting to her.

  And let’s face it—the guy was to-die-for gorgeous. She could look at that face all day long and never get bored—and that was saying something for a girl with severe ADD who tended to get bored fairly easily.

  These realizations, coming one on top of the other, were somewhat unsettling. She was here to do a job, not to become fascinated by her client. She could tell herself that over and over and over, but it didn’t stop her from being fascinated—and eager to see him again.

  No two people had ever been more incompatible than they were. He had his quiet life in Vermont. She had her hectic life in New York. Alas, two hours later she was still thinking about all the ways he fascinated her and all the many ways they were completely incompatible.

  Giving up on sleep, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, stopping on the way to inspect the healing bruises on her face. They were a little more yellow than purple today, which she took as a positive sign. Thankfully, her lips had returned to a normal size, so she looked slightly less clownish today than she had yesterday. She was grateful for small favors.

  After showering and drying her hair, she pulled on jeans, a heavy sweater and her new boots and decided to go downstairs for some coffee to tide her over until breakfast with Will. She pulled opened the door and found something hanging from the knob.

  What had he done now? A burst of excitement overtook her as she brought the bag from the store into her room and sat on the bed to investigate. She pulled the down coat from the bag and then the hat and gloves. Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the coat—again something she would’ve chosen for herself.

  She hugged it to her chest, overwhelmed by his sweetness and his thoughtfulness. All thoughts of incompatibility scattered like dust in the wind. “Oh God,” she whispered. “What am I going to do with him?”

  • • •

  Will was up early to plow the long lane that led to the main road. With all the ruts in the dirt road, the plowing was slow going. It didn’t help that the dogs would rather be outside chasing the truck than inside where it was warm, so he had to be constantly on the lookout for them.

  As he sipped the coffee he’d poured into a travel mug, he found himself thinking again of Cameron and the website and the store and what was best for the business and whether what was best for the business was also what was best for him. He felt like a gerbil on one of those wheel things as the debate cycled through his mind again and again with no obvious solution presenting itself.

  By the time he had the lane passable, it was getting close to seven thirty. He drove up to the garage behind the house and removed the plow from the truck. The dogs followed closely on his heels as he went into the mudroom off the kitchen to dish up their breakfast and fill their water bowls. They dove into their bowls with their usual exuberance for all things food related. A lot of days they came to work with him so they wouldn’t have to be alone all day, but he’d be leaving them home today due to his breakfast plans with Cameron.

  Max was in the kitchen guzzling coffee.

  “Morning,” Will said.

  “Mmm.”

  “Want something to eat?”

  “No, thanks. My stomach is a mess.”

  “Nerves.”

  “I guess.”

  “Hey,” Will said, waiting until he had Max’s attention before continuing. “It’s all going to be fine. I promise.”

  “They’re going to be pissed. Or disappointed, which will be worse.”

  “They may surprise you. There’s not much any of us could do that they haven’t already encountered along the way.” Their parents were pretty cool, or so Will’s friends had always said, but they set high standards for their children and weren’t afraid to say so when they were disappointed.

  Since disappointing their parents wasn’t something any of them ever wanted to do, Will felt for his brother.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Max said, rinsing his mug and leaving it in the drainer to dry.

  “You want to follow me into town?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to head right to Burlington for a ten o’clock class. And Chloe has a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. I’m going with her.”

  “You’re already doing the right things, Max. You’re stepping up for her and being a man. Just keep doing that, and it’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t let me turn the kid into a total moron, will you?”

  Will laughed at the dead-serious expression on Max’s face. “We didn’t let you become a total moron, did we?”

  That drew a partial smile from Max as he got into the Subaru that used to belong to their mom to follow Will into town. Evergreen branches sagged under the weight of the heavy snow, and the main road into town was coated with a slushy mix of sand and snow that Charlotte referred to as the coffee ice cream after the storm. Thinking of ice cream had Will wondering if Cameron might enjoy checking out the Ben & Jerry’s factory in Waterbury.

  While they were there, he could take her over to Stowe and show her the Trapp Family Lodge where the family from the Sound of Music had landed after they fled the Nazis in World War II. He’d have to ask her if any of that appealed to her.

  “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” he said out loud, as if that might get the message to his overactive brain. Making plans that involved her wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

  As he drove into town, he glanced in the mirror to make sure Max was still with him. Their parents lived in a beautifully restored barn on Hells Peak Road, at the far end of town, about
a quarter mile up the hill from Hannah’s house. The Abbott kids liked to tell people they’d been raised in a barn, which usually drew a laugh. He wondered what Cameron would think of that fact of his life. She’d probably been raised in a penthouse. He’d take his barn over her penthouse and nannies any day.

  Will drove through downtown, past the store, to the far end of Elm and took a left onto Park Street, which wound along for a mile or so, ending at a covered bridge that could accommodate one car at a time. Max stayed back until Will was over the bridge and then followed him.

  After another mile of winding country road, he took a right onto Hells Peak, and the barn popped into view. Set back off the road, it was red with white trim and tons of windows that gave it away as a home rather than a traditional barn. A rooster weathervane sat at the very top of the roof.

  Will’s dad loved to tell the story of how he and his new wife found the barn in deplorable condition and camped on the grounds for months the first summer they were married while they made it habitable. Lincoln also liked to boast that Hunter and Hannah had resulted from the camp-out—not that his children ever wanted to hear those details.

  Will pulled into the long drive that had already been plowed—probably by Hunter—and parked next to his dad’s new silver Range Rover. Lincoln’s love of all things British extended to his vehicle. Ringo and George came running up to Will to say hello, giving him a good sniff to go with wet, sloppy kisses.

  Max joined them and gave the dogs some attention as he eyed the house with trepidation.

  Will gave his brother a push toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  “I feel like I’m being marched to a firing squad.”

  “Stop being such a drama queen.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  They stomped the snow off their boots and stepped into the mudroom, where they removed them and hung their coats on hooks that still had their names carved in order of age on the wall above them. Out of habit, Will put his coat on the hook that had been his on the far left while Max did the same on the far right.

  The dogs ran past them into the kitchen, announcing their arrival.

  “This is a nice surprise,” Molly Abbott said as her sons came into the room where she was having coffee and reading the paper with her husband. Her long silvery gray hair was contained in a single braid, and her pretty face was still youthful despite bearing and raising ten children. She’d gone gray at thirty and had never bothered to hide it.

  Will kissed her cheek and took a seat at the table as Max followed suit.

  “How are the roads?” Lincoln asked.

  “Full of coffee ice cream, as Charlotte would say,” Max replied.

  “Speaking of coffee,” Molly said, gesturing to the full pot on the counter.

  “I’m good,” Will said.

  “Me, too,” Max said.

  “To what do we owe this honor?” Lincoln asked as he studied his sons over the top of his half glasses. A man didn’t raise ten children without knowing when something was up.

  “What’re you doing in town?” Molly asked Max. “Don’t you have class today?”

  “Later.”

  “He came over to see me last night, and I made him stay because of the snow,” Will said.

  “That’s good,” Molly said. “You shouldn’t have been driving last night.” She glanced from one son to the other, landing on Will. “What’s going on?” Her maternal radar was finely tuned to trouble, and she was clearly recording a hit. “William?”

  Wincing from the sound of his full name coming from his mother, he wanted to laugh at the idea that she thought he was the cause of the trouble. “Max has something he wants to tell you.”

  “Oh dear lord, are you flunking out of school this late in the game?” Molly asked.

  “No!” Max seemed totally offended by the question. “I’m not flunking out.”

  “Then what?” Lincoln put down the paper and leaned on the table. “Whatever it is, just say it. We can’t help you if we don’t know what the problem is.”

  And that, right there, was what Will loved about his parents. Their first inclination was to help. Help first and judge later had been something he’d heard his whole life. “Say it, Max,” Will said gently.

  “Chloe is pregnant.”

  The statement hung in the air for a long, awkward moment.

  “Huh,” Lincoln said, seeming stunned.

  “Pregnant,” Molly said. “This is Chloe, the one you brought home for dinner a month or so ago.”

  “Yes.”

  “You haven’t known her all that long.”

  “I’ve known her long enough.”

  “Honestly, Maxwell, this is no time for jokes,” Molly said.

  “I’m not making jokes, believe me. I’ve known her about six months in total. I care about her a lot, and I’m doing everything I can to support her through this.”

  Their parents exchanged subtle glances, looking—as always—for cues from each other.

  “He’s almost done with school,” Will said, looking for the bright side.

  “How long have you known about this?” Molly asked, zeroing in on Will.

  He threw up his hands to ward her off. “Only since last night.”

  “What do you plan to do?” Lincoln asked.

  “Um, do?” Max said, glancing at Will for help.

  “Are you going to marry her?” Molly asked.

  All the color in Max’s face drained in a heartbeat. “I, um, no, that’s not the plan. At the moment.”

  “What is the plan?” Lincoln asked.

  “I’ll, ah, help her with money and the baby and anything she needs and do the right thing. That’s my plan.”

  “Doing the right thing should also include the possibility of marriage,” Molly said.

  “It doesn’t have to, Mom,” Will said. “People in this situation don’t automatically get married anymore.”

  “I’m well aware that things have changed, William, but they should at least talk about it.”

  “We’re nowhere near ready to have that conversation,” Max said.

  “Yet you’re ready to have a baby,” Molly said, her lips tight with displeasure.

  “Well, no, not really, but we are having a baby, and he or she will be well cared for. I’ll see to that.”

  “Mom.” Will waited until she looked his way and then took her hand. “I’d rather hear that Max is going to be a dad than so many other things he could’ve said. I’d rather hear there’s a baby than a tumor or a drug addiction or a gambling addiction or a sex addiction.”

  “Well,” Max said, grinning.

  Will glared at him. He’d walked right into that with one example too many.

  “Sorry,” Max said, covering his smile with his hand, “not funny.”

  “Not funny at all,” Molly said.

  “You do make a good point, Will.” Lincoln glanced at his wife. “There’re lots of things worse than a baby.”

  “Of course there are,” Molly said, softening. “I just hope you have an idea of what’s about to happen to your carefree life.”

  “I’ll take care of my child, Mom.”

  “And your child’s mother. No matter what.”

  “And my child’s mother. No matter what.”

  “Well,” Molly said to her husband, “looks like our baby is going to make us grandparents for the first time.”

  “Looks that way,” Lincoln said, sharing a smile with her.

  “You’re not mad or disappointed or any other awful thing, are you?” Max asked.

  Will wanted to tell him to quit while he was ahead, but Max hadn’t asked for his opinion.

  “I assume this didn’t occur because of any lack of . . . responsibility on your part,” Lincoln said.

  “No, sir. I did exactly what you’ve always told us to do. I swear to God.”

  “Ninety-eight percent effective,” Will said.

  “What he said,” Max said, pointing at Will.

  “T
hen I’m not mad or disappointed or any other awful thing,” Lincoln said.

  Max sagged with relief.

  “I’m sorry you’re going to have so much responsibility at such a young age,” Lincoln continued, “but I have faith you can handle it.”

  “How old were you when Hannah and Hunter were born?” Max asked their dad.

  Lincoln tipped his head as he thought about that, absently running his fingers through Ringo’s silky coat. “Twenty-three.”

  “A year older than I’ll be when my first kid comes along. You didn’t make a total mess of them, so there’s hope for me.”

  Molly tittered with laughter that broke the tension. “He’s got you there, babe.”

  Seeming pleased to have scored a point against his dad, Max stood. “I need to get back to Burlington.”

  “Bring Chloe for dinner on Sunday,” Molly said.

  “Oh, um, well, okay. I’ll see if she can make it.”

  “And you’ll be here either way?” Molly asked.

  Max bent to kiss her cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Drive easy out there, son,” Lincoln said.

  “I will.”

  “Max.”

  He turned back to see what his father wanted.

  Lincoln held out a hand to him. “Congratulations, son. You’re going to be a fine father to that very lucky baby.”

  Seeming stunned by the unexpected declaration, Max blinked back tears and shook his father’s hand. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me.” He hightailed it out of there before he lost it completely.

  “Well,” Molly said. “That was quite a surprise. I assume it was your idea for him to get over here and talk to us this morning.”

  Will shrugged. “I might’ve nudged him in that direction.”

  “I’m glad he went to you, and I’m glad you were there for him.”

  “I’m always there for him. He knows that.”

  “I love how close you all are, even as adults,” Lincoln said as he stood. “You may have your skirmishes, but at the end of the day you’re one hundred percent there for each other. I’m very proud of that.”

  “We were brought up by great parents who constantly reminded us of who would always have our backs,” Will re- minded them.