Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3
“I told her she had to be home before midnight.”
“Midnight?” Rachel thought she was going to be sick. “A thirteen-year-old should be home and in bed long before then. Have you lost your mind?”
“Can we talk about this later?” Bruce said after a strained moment.
“That might be best.”
“Shall I meet you at D.D.’s at six?”
“I’ll be there.” Then, because she felt the urge to talk to Jolene, the urge to try yet again, she asked Bruce to put her stepdaughter on the line.
It was a couple of minutes before Jolene got on the phone. “What?” she demanded.
“I understand you’re taking good care of your father,” Rachel said, thinking that if she began with a compliment, the conversation might go more smoothly.
“I told you before—we don’t need you here.”
“And you’re right, you don’t.” That obviously wasn’t what Jolene had expected. “Your father and I are going out for dinner on Friday night.”
“Great,” she muttered sarcastically. “You aren’t moving back, though, are you?”
“No.”
“Good, because it’s been really nice around here without you.”
Rachel didn’t doubt that was true—in Jolene’s mind, if not Bruce’s. Rachel responded with silence.
“Dad and I are as close as ever.”
Rachel decided to ignore that, too. “I wanted to tell you I felt the baby move today.”
For the first time since she’d picked up the phone, Jolene didn’t have anything derogatory to say.
Rachel continued. “The doctor says the baby—”
“Do you know yet if it’s a boy or girl?”
“Your father asked me the same thing. No, I didn’t want to be told. I’d rather be surprised.”
“Oh.” Jolene seemed disappointed.
“Do you want a baby brother?”
She hesitated. “I guess.”
“A sister would be nice, too,” Rachel said. “Someone you could be friends with later on. I always wanted a sister.”
“I did, too. When I was little.”
“Either way, this baby is going to be happy to have a big sister,” Rachel said. “It was nice chatting with you, Jolene. Maybe we can do it again, okay?”
“We can talk,” Jolene whispered, “as long as you don’t move back.”
Sixteen
“Oh, Mom,” Tanni whispered as she stepped into her mother’s bedroom. “You look so beautiful.”
Shirley blushed. “Oh, Tanni, do I?” She was about to be married and felt more unsettled than she could ever remember being.
A small wedding was what both she and Larry wanted. Just family and a few friends. Tanni had agreed to be her maid of honor and Miranda would serve as her one and only bridesmaid.
The wedding would take place in the small chapel at the Catholic church, with Father Donahue presiding. Larry and his children had flown in from California early that morning. They either had to get married in this two-day window or wait another three months until he returned from his travels.
To Larry, the three months seemed far too long, since they’d already made up their minds. Shirley had never intended to fall in love again; she’d certainly never expected to. Meeting Larry had overturned all her preconceived ideas about living the rest of her life as a widow.
As Larry said, they were meant to be together.
Together.
That was almost worthy of a laugh. With his lecture tour and painting schedule, they’d have this forty-eight-hour period, and then he was off to New York for two weeks, followed by a European tour. Naturally Larry wanted her to go with him, and she would’ve loved it.
But unfortunately, it wasn’t possible. Shirley couldn’t pull Tanni out of school or take off for weeks at a time. She wasn’t willing to leave her seventeen-year-old daughter to fend for herself. She also had several commissions she was working on and couldn’t abandon what she’d been contracted to complete. Above all, she was Tanni’s mother and Tanni needed her to be at home.
Losing her father had been a terrible blow to her teenage daughter, and Shirley wasn’t going to subject Tanni to another massive change, just when she was starting to cope.
The plan was that they’d have their wedding Friday afternoon, honeymoon for two days and then Larry would be gone for nearly eleven weeks.
The ceremony was lovely, and both families went to dinner afterward. She was relieved to see how well her children and Larry’s got along. They joked and teased as if they’d known one another all their lives.
Larry clasped her hand beneath the dinner table. “Are you ready to get out of here?” he said in a low voice.
“Now?” Shirley asked. She was enjoying the families’ interactions and hated to have everything end so soon.
“We can stay as long as you like, but we do have a three-hour drive ahead of us.”
This was news to Shirley. She’d planned the wedding, but had left the honeymoon to Larry.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I have good friends who own a summer home near Leavenworth, which they’ve lent us.”
The Bavarian-style village in the eastern part of the state was one of her favorite places. Since it was an artists’ community, she wasn’t surprised that Larry had friends living there.
Larry squeezed her fingers. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Shirley squeezed back. “We can leave now.”
Except that it took at least half an hour to get away, since everyone wanted to wish them well. Still holding hands, Larry led her to the front of the restaurant, where the valet had brought their rental car. Larry helped her in, and with their friends and family gathered around, they drove off to waves and shouts.
“We’re on our way,” Larry said, glancing at her as he pulled out of the circular drive. “Finally.”
Shirley smiled at him.
“You’re a beautiful bride,” he said.
“And you’re an exceptionally handsome groom,” she returned. “Are you happy?”
“Very much so—and sad, too.”
“Sad? Why?” she asked.
“Because we have so little time.”
Shirley didn’t want to think about the future, other than this coming weekend. Somehow they’d make it through the next eleven weeks. Then, after Tanni left for college, they could live together in California.
“Have I ever told you how much I enjoy Leavenworth?” she asked. They often spoke for two and three hours at a time. Shirley supposed she must have mentioned her fondness for the town at some point.
“Not that I recall. I was only there once and liked it tremendously. It’s the first place I thought of for a honeymoon.”
Shirley nestled in the plush leather seat. She was exhausted and the warm air from the car’s heater made her feel sleepy.
“Go ahead and rest,” Larry said. “I plan on keeping you up for most of the night.”
Shirley sighed contentedly. “Then you should be aware that I plan on wearing you out.”
He chuckled. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
The next morning, Shirley had to admit they were both right. They’d arrived at the cabin around eleven the previous night. While Larry lit a fire and opened a bottle of champagne, she’d unpacked their suitcases and changed into her silk nightgown and robe.
He was a gentle, caring lover. Afterward, they slept for a while and then made love again. In the morning, Shirley woke to sunshine. She sat up and stretched contentedly before she snuggled against Larry’s side.
“Mmm.” He rolled over, throwing one arm around her. “I like waking up with you beside me.”
“Me, too,” she whispered. Tossing aside the covers a few minutes later, she shivered in the morning chill and hurriedly reached for her flimsy robe, although it offered little warmth.
The coffee was brewing by the time Larry joined her. He’d dressed and immediately set about buildi
ng another fire.
Not until she’d poured them each a cup did Shirley look outside. “Larry!” she cried, pulling open the drapes. “It snowed.”
“We are in the mountains, love.”
“Yes, I know, but it’s still October, and I wasn’t expecting this. It’s so beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, coming to stand behind her, folding his arms around her. She loved being this close to her husband, loved feeling his embrace. All too soon she’d be back in the real world, alone once again.
They spent one glorious day together, riding snow-mobiles, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. Larry took her to a wonderful restaurant for dinner and they spent much of that night discovering each other in new and exciting ways. Then, early Sunday morning, Larry drove them back to Cedar Cove.
Since he had to return the rental car to the airport, he took her home first. When they got there, he carried her small suitcase into the house, then held her close. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.
Shirley didn’t want him to go, either. In fact, she felt like weeping.
Larry hid his face in her hair. “The weeks will fly by,” he said.
“No, they won’t,” she protested. “Every minute’s going to seem like an hour.” She felt his smile against her skin when he kissed her neck.
“I agree,” he said. “I’m doing my best to think positive here. How about a little help?”
“I’m positive,” she muttered. “Positive I’m going to be lonely and miserable.”
He glanced at his watch. “I have to go.”
“I know.” If he got delayed in traffic or at the rental return, he’d miss his flight. Shirley dared not keep him there any longer.
They kissed one last time, and she walked him out to the car and waved, forcing herself to smile, refusing to send him off with tears in her eyes. Standing by the fence she waited until the car disappeared from sight.
With a sigh, she went into the house and found Tanni’s scribbled note on the kitchen chalkboard. “With Kristen. Home before six.”
It was only three now. Her arms around her middle, she sank into a chair, feeling sorry for herself.
“This is ridiculous,” she said aloud. She’d met and married a good man—an artist like herself, whose work she admired. Instead of brooding about the empty weeks ahead, she should be counting her blessings.
She picked up the phone and called Miranda. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Cleaning house,” Miranda said. “Somebody stop me.”
“Okay, stop. I need your help.”
“Larry’s gone?”
“Yup. I’m fighting off depression. I can’t do it alone. Want to come over and eat ice cream and watch a bunch of romantic movies with me?”
“I’d love to.” Her friend didn’t hesitate. “Do you have butter pecan or do I need to go to the store on my way?”
“Let me check.” Shirley walked to the fridge and opened the freezer section. “I’ve got vanilla and…” She shuffled aside two frozen halibut filets, a microwave dinner and a box of peas. “Nope, that’s it.”
“I’ll make an ice cream run,” Miranda said. “It’ll take me…forty minutes. Can you survive that long?”
“Forty I can do. Forty-five would be a stretch.”
“I’ll tell the grocery clerk this is an emergency and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Before she hung up, Shirley managed a smile. Miranda was a good friend and she was grateful for her willingness to drop everything and come to her rescue.
When Miranda arrived with three flavors of ice cream, Shirley had unpacked her suitcase, started a load of laundry and set out bowls and spoons. A selection of DVDs was stacked and ready. After sorting through her favorite romantic movies, she’d chosen The African Queen, French Kiss, Romancing the Stone and The Princess Bride.
Miranda decided they should watch French Kiss first. Shirley slipped it into the DVD player while her friend dished up their treats. They both sat on the sofa, eating slowly. “I love this movie,” Shirley mumbled through a mouthful of melting ice cream.
“Me, too,” Miranda said dreamily.
Given Miranda’s often brusque manner, few would guess she was such a romantic. Shirley knew otherwise. The contrast between her no-nonsense exterior and her warm, sensitive heart was one of the interesting things about her.
Shirley didn’t know anyone, not even Olivia, who could cut Will Jefferson down to size as effectively as her friend. She’d been observing the bickering and one-upsmanship between the two of them for months. They argued like a long-married couple, and Shirley was convinced they both enjoyed it. That style of interaction wasn’t for her, but it worked for some couples.
“Guess what I got in the mail,” Shirley said.
“Anything good? A prize from Publishers Clearing House?”
“Better. A card from your employer.”
Miranda put her bowl of ice cream on the coffee table, sat up straight and paused the movie. “Will sent you a wedding card?”
“He sure did.”
“Will? Will Jefferson? Are you joking?”
“He isn’t so bad, you know,” Shirley said. “Beneath all that bravado, he’s a nice guy.”
Miranda frowned, shaking her head. “He’s completely wrapped up in himself. His ego is so big I can’t imagine how he fits it through the door.”
Shirley laughed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Aren’t you exaggerating?”
“You don’t work with him. I do. I’ve seen him at his worst.”
“And his best,” Shirley added.
Miranda wasn’t giving in that easily. “You go ahead and believe what you like, but I know the real Will Jefferson.”
Shirley got up from the sofa and retrieved the wedding card, which she handed to her friend.
Miranda read Will’s message, then closed the card and looked up at Shirley.
“Well?”
“He’s good with words,” Miranda reluctantly admitted. “He even sounds gracious.”
“Don’t act so surprised.” The congratulatory note had felt authentic to Shirley. Will had wished her and Larry happiness and claimed he was proud to have played a role in bringing them together.
“He can be sincere,” Miranda said, still with some reluctance.
Shirley agreed. Despite her initial doubts, she’d sensed his good qualities—his kindness, his commitment to the artists of Cedar Cove, his generosity. Granted, he’d tried too hard to impress her and had come across as excessively sure of himself. “He’s genuinely pleased that Larry and I found happiness together.”
“Genuinely?” Miranda snickered.
Shirley studied her friend. “I had no idea you disliked him so much.” In reality she knew the opposite was true; Miranda was falling for Will, and fighting it every step of the way.
“I don’t dislike him,” Miranda said. “In fact…” She closed her eyes.
“What?” Shirley pressed, although she was well aware of what Miranda was about to divulge.
“If you laugh, I swear to you I will get up and walk out of this house and never return.”
“I won’t laugh,” Shirley promised, her expression sober. “Cross my heart.”
Miranda frowned at her, as if to gauge the truth of her words. “All right, I’ll tell you. I’m afraid…actually, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”
“You think I didn’t already know that?” Shirley broke into a big grin. Miranda’s confession pleased her. Maybe something would finally happen between Will and her friend.
“You knew?”
“Oh, sweetie, we’ve been friends far too long for me not to see how you feel about Will.”
Miranda looked stricken. “Do you think Will knows?” she asked anxiously.
“Will Jefferson?” Shirley asked. “The poor man doesn’t have a clue.” Although she secretly thought he did…and that he felt exactly the same way.
Seventeen
When Glori
a had first discovered she was pregnant with Chad Timmons’s baby, it had felt like the end of the world. In the months since, she’d come to think differently. She loved her unborn child with a fierce protectiveness and the kind of intensity she’d never experienced before.
Her obstetrician had ordered a routine ultrasound for Tuesday morning. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Gloria closed her eyes, silently debating what to do. She hadn’t seen or heard from Chad since they’d talked in the hospital parking lot, the day he’d been with that other woman.
The blonde had looked beautiful, petite, delicate. Unlike Gloria, who considered herself moderately attractive and took pride in her strength and toughness. As a cop, she had to be strong, mentally and physically.
Chad knew about the baby. For reasons of his own, Roy McAfee had told him. She’d been upset that Roy had gone against her express wishes, but she’d forgiven him in time and even found a measure of relief in knowing that this uncomfortable task had been taken from her. After he’d learned the news, though, Chad hadn’t made any effort to contact her. That shouldn’t surprise her, though. Oh, he’d had Mack deliver those books, which showed he was concerned. But he hadn’t reached out to her—nor, for that matter, had she approached him.
It occurred to her that he might want to know about the ultrasound. The nurse who’d scheduled it had told Gloria that she could bring someone with her.
She’d considered asking her birth mother, but Corrie was in North Dakota with Linnette and her new grandson. Otherwise, Corrie would certainly have accompanied her.
But she had to acknowledge that the one person who should be there was Chad. Fingers shaking, she picked up her cell phone and punched the button that would connect her to Chad. A dozen times she’d been tempted to delete his number. She never had. Perhaps she’d secretly wanted to maintain this link.
He answered immediately. “Dr. Timmons.”
“It’s Gloria.” Her throat was so dry, she could barely get her name out.
Silence.
“I understand Roy told you…”
“That you’re pregnant,” he finished.
“Yes…almost five months.”