Bree felt as out of place as a starling in the ocean. “We should let Hilary know we’re here.” What she really wanted to do was find a corner to hide in until she could slip back to the lighthouse. Though she called Rock Harbor home, many in town still regarded her as a newcomer, even after nearly five years as a resident.
“You go ahead,” Naomi said, looking past Bree. “I want to talk to Donovan.”
So he was here. Bree watched Naomi move to Donovan’s side and smile up at him. If that man hurt sweet Naomi, she’d make him regret it. How Bree intended to protect her friend, she wasn’t sure, but she’d lay down her life for Naomi. First, though, she needed to let her presence be known to her sister-in-law.
Hilary and Mason were talking with Jacob Zinn, an older man who ran a fishing resort on the edge of town. Mason gave Bree a smile.
“Bree, how nice you look,” Hilary said. She leaned forward and touched her lips to Bree’s cheek. “You know Jacob Zinn, don’t you?”
Bree nodded and shook hands with Jacob.
“Mrs. Nicholls.” He pressed her fingers briefly. “I had thought you would have headed back to Oregon by now. There’s not much in Rock Harbor to interest an outsider, eh?” His dark eyes flickered over her then just as quickly dismissed her. He spoke with the familiar Yooper cadence, punctuating his sentence with an “eh” and ending with an upward lilt that made the statement almost a question.
How long would she have to live here before people like Jacob accepted her? Twenty years, fifty? If she took out an ad in the newspaper and proclaimed her intention never to leave, he still wouldn’t believe it. “This is my home, Mr. Zinn. My family is here.”
He snorted and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “They will never be found, Mrs. Nicholls. The North Woods guards her secrets well. I suggest you pick up your life and get on with it.” Without waiting for a reply, he nodded to Hilary and strode away.
“That man is so rude,” Hilary said. She linked arms with Bree. “We’re your family, not just Rob and Davy. Come with me. The Asterses just arrived, and I want to say hello.”
Though Jacob Zinn’s invective had made Bree reel, Hilary’s words made her heart sing. Words of approval from her were as rare as a Michigan monkey flower. If she could freeze this moment, the next time Hilary bit her head off she could remember this and savor it. She walked arm in arm with Hilary to greet Fay and Steve Asters, with Mason trailing at a distance.
Hilary dropped Bree’s arm and held out a hand to Fay. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, her gaze on Steve.
Bree knew Fay and Steve Asters fairly well. As manager of the Rock Harbor Savings and Loan, Steve had been forced to handle the mortgage paperwork on the lighthouse when the loan officer quit. Rob had trusted Steve, and Bree found him quite charming. She and Fay met for coffee once in a while, though Bree found the other woman’s intense need for attention somewhat off-putting. An hour at a time was the most she could usually stomach being with her.
Hilary launched into easy conversation with Steve. Bree sometimes wondered if there was more history between Hilary and Steve than a simple high-school romance that ended when Steve fell for Fay.
“How goes the search?” Fay asked with a flip of her palm while Steve chatted with Mason and Hilary. Fay’s fingers fluttered in the air to punctuate every word. Her dark blue eyes glittered with avid interest in everything around her.
“Nowhere,” Bree said. Just once, she wished people would talk to her about something else. But the search was always the first topic. Did they ever stop to think she might be interested in the weather or politics?
“Maybe I could join you one day,” Fay said, twisting the gold hoops in her ears. “I saw something the other day that needed checking out. There was a woman outside a cabin. In the ravine beside it, I thought I saw an old airplane seat.”
Bree had learned to take everything Fay said as the bid for attention it usually was. Six months ago, Fay had told everyone in Anu Nicholls’s shop that she’d seen a jacket like Davy’s along the river near Ontonagon. Bree had rushed there only to find a man’s red parka rather than a child’s blue jacket. “An airplane seat?” she asked, measuring her interest. “Are you sure?”
“Not totally sure, but it looked odd sitting there. I just can’t remember what sector I was in. I’ll try to remember.”
“Can you think of any identifying landmarks?” That would be one way to see how much truth was in Fay.
“Oh, let’s talk about this later,” Fay said, waving away her earlier comments. “It’s probably nothing.”
Almost certainly it was nothing. Still, what did she have to lose by looking? There were no other clues clamoring for attention. She just needed to know where to look. “Why don’t we meet at the Suomi for coffee in the morning?”
“Fine.” Fay stretched with ferretlike grace then tugged on her husband’s arm. “As long as I don’t have to eat anything.”
Fay normally ate like Samson. Bree lifted an eyebrow. “Dieting?”
“Hardly.” Fay gave a little laugh. “I’m going to look like a tub by the time the next seven months are up. Steve and I are going to have a baby!”
Bree didn’t miss the triumphant smile Fay tossed at Hilary. Hilary’s face froze for several long moments, then she managed a brittle smile that didn’t include her eyes.
“Congratulations. When is the . . . the baby due?” Hilary asked.
Bree heard the pain underneath the lighthearted voice, though she didn’t understand it. Did Hilary still really care for Steve? Poor Mason. Her gaze lingered on the sheriff’s face, but he seemed unperturbed.
“Not until May. I’m just barely knocked up.” Fay’s tinkling laugh came again.
“How . . . how wonderful,” Hilary managed. “You must excuse me.”
Bree watched her rush away then excused herself and followed her to the rest room.
The ladies’ room was a luxurious space with marble floors and counters, gold-plated fixtures, and mauve wallpaper in a subtle acanthus pattern. Hilary stood at a counter in front of the mirror, her eyes too bright in her white face.
“I couldn’t stay another minute,” Hilary said. Her chest heaved in small pants. Her fingers darted into the picture-perfect coiffure of curls piled atop her head.
“What’s wrong, Hilary?” Bree went to her and touched her shoulder.
“Why, nothing, of course. What could be wrong? My reelection is a shoo-in, Mason’s job is going well, and he’ll certainly be reelected too.” She stopped, and chagrin spread over her face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But really, I need to count my blessings.”
“What’s wrong? Is it Fay’s announcement? Did something happen today? You can tell me.” Bree’s unease grew. Whatever ailed her sister-in-law, it was something major.
Hilary’s lips twisted, and she began to tremble. She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the marble counter with both hands.
“I’m never going to have a baby, Bree.” She sobbed. “You can’t imagine the money we’ve poured into the fertility clinic in Marquette the past weeks as they’ve run all those tests. But today another disappointment. I was sure I was pregnant,” she whispered. “I was nearly two weeks late, my stomach was bloated, nausea—all the symptoms. I’d hoped to announce it tonight. I finally got up the courage to buy a pregnancy test. It was negative. Then the doctor called with all my test results, and . . . and . . .” Hilary leaned against the wall for support. “He says Mason has a low sperm count. We may never have a baby. Now Fay flaunts her pregnancy in front of me like a war trophy. I could have had Steve, you know. He was mine before she moved to town. I hate her; I hate her! That baby should have been mine.”
“You don’t hate her. Come sit down.” Bree embraced Hilary and led her to a wingback chair positioned against the wall. “Sit here. I’ll get you some water.” The marble counter held crystal glasses with cardboard covers in a neat pile on a mirrored tray. Bree’s hand shook as she held a glass unde
r the faucet and filled it with water.
Hilary took the glass Bree offered and gulped it down. “I haven’t told Mason yet. I can’t bear to disappoint him again; he’ll blame himself. We intended to have at least four, you know. And here we are ten years later with just the two of us rattling around in that great mausoleum that was built for a family.”
“What about adoption?” Bree said tentatively. She’d thought of adopting a child herself. None could ever replace Davy, but maybe another child, one who needed a home as desperately as she needed a reason for living, would fill the empty void in her heart.
Hilary shook her head. “I want a child of my own, a baby I carry in my body.”
“I see.” Words of advice rose in her throat and died there like a cake gone flat in the oven. Rob’s family was all she had left, the only safe haven left to her. Hilary’s rage could rise like Vesuvius, and Bree didn’t want to be caught in the lava flow. Not now.
As Bree predicted, anger quickly replaced the sorrow on Hilary’s face. She rose and grabbed a tissue from the counter. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand! Everyone would know it wasn’t my baby. I don’t want their pity! Oh, why am I even talking to you about it? You never say anything that matters. I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately.”
Bree couldn’t explain it to her sister-in-law any more than she could explain it to herself. Hilary brushed past Bree and began to repair the damage to her makeup. Dabbing at her face, she tested a smile, then her face crumpled again. She dabbed at the tears until she finally succeeded in putting on a serene face.
“It will be all I can do to even speak to that cat Fay. I hate her!” She swept out the door without looking back.
Bree followed at a distance. Hilary melted into the festive crowd with a laugh that seemed to fool her friends but pierced Bree with dregs of sorrow as bitter as old tea. Hilary was right. Since Rob and Davy had died, she’d lost hold of who she was, and she didn’t know how to find herself again.
“Bree, kulta, I have looked everywhere for you.”
The soft sound of her mother-in-law’s voice was enough to ease Bree’s tension. Anu Nicholls always knew what to do. Bree turned to greet her with a smile. “How lovely you look!” Bree told her.
Dressed in a creamy gown overlaid with exquisite Finnish lace, Anu Nicholls wore her fair hair high on her head in a coronet of braids. Though nearly sixty, Anu boasted shining hair that held no trace of gray, and her face was as unlined as Bree’s. From the moment Bree had married Rob and became a Nicholls, Anu had claimed her as one of her own, though the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the family.
As Anu embraced Bree, her mother-in-law’s subtle perfume slipped over Bree like a caress.
“So kumoon you look. Slim and so beautiful.” Anu linked a graceful arm through Bree’s and strolled toward the pastry table. “Come with me. You know how wonderful Hilary’s thimbleberry tarts are. Even when I know my hips will pay, never can I resist.”
“Like you have to worry about your figure!” Bree eyed Anu’s lithe, long limbs with envy. She hated being short. If she could pick someone to look like, it would be Anu Nicholls. In fact, Bree wished she were like Anu in all ways. They had a lot in common even now, especially in love. They both had loved and lost. Anu’s husband had run out on her after five years of marriage, leaving her to raise Rob and Hilary alone. He’d never so much as written to let her know he was still alive. The abandoned woman had never remarried, though not for lack of admirers.
Rob’s father never knew the way the town looked up to Rob. The night he was appointed fire chief, Bree and Rob had lain in bed and talked far into the night. Rob confessed he’d always worked hard in his profession so that maybe someday he could make his dad proud enough of him to come back. Bree had held him as he cried that night, and it made her hate Rob’s father for more than just abandoning Anu.
Anu had bounced back though. She’d opened Nicholls’s Finnish Imports nearly twenty years ago, and it had grown into one of the finest Finnish shops in the country. Bree loved to touch the shop’s beautiful items, treasures like Arabia china and colorful Marimekko linens. Working there was a joy, not a chore.
“Something has caused that long face, eh?”
Bree came back to earth and managed a smile. “Did you find anything new in Finland for the shop?” Bree said, knowing shop news should distract her.
Anu brightened. “Some lovely wool sweaters. And a new line of saunas I will carry.” She wagged her finger under Bree’s nose. “Do not change the subject. You were about to tell me what hides that lovely smile. And do not tell me ‘nothing.’ I know you too well.”
Hilary would be livid if she revealed something she didn’t want her mother to know. “I was with Hilary,” she began, trying to think of a way to deflect the question.
Anu held up a slim hand. “That is enough of an explanation. I suppose she was badgering you again. I’m sorry, my Bree. I have tried to talk with her, but she refuses to listen to reason.”
Bree took the invitation to drop the topic and switched to another. “I’m still having no luck finding any trace of the plane crash,” she admitted.
Anu was silent for a long moment, her gaze pensive, then her eyes grew luminous with tears. “I spent much time thinking at the Puulan Lake cottage,” Anu said. “The time has come to let it go, Bree.” Anu’s blue-eyed gaze gently traveled over Bree’s face. “When Abe left me, I clung to the hope he would return. At holidays, the children’s birthdays, I was sure he would call or write, or show up at the door. I spent my life imagining how I would act, what I would say. Then one day I woke up and knew he wasn’t coming back. He was as dead to me as if he were buried in Rock Harbor Cemetery.” She rubbed her forehead.
“It is time we all faced facts. Rob and Davy are gone. It is time for you to move on with your life. We must cease asking the impossible of you. They are gone. Let them rest in peace.”
Bree’s throat clenched, and she felt the beginning flutters of a panic attack, an experience she hadn’t had in nearly six months. She couldn’t let go of Rob and Davy, not quite yet.
“Soon,” she whispered. “But not yet, Anu. Not yet.”
Anu laid a hand on Bree’s cheek. “I know it is hard, kulta. But you will grow stronger when you let go.”
Bree shook her head. “I’m giving myself until the first of the year. It seems appropriate, don’t you think?” Anu shrugged in acquiescence, and Bree wondered if she would give it up even then. The search was the only connection she had with her son and her husband, faithless though he was. Without that search to give her life meaning, what else was there?
4
Bree dutifully made the rounds through the room, shaking hands, smiling until her face hurt, and garnering all the goodwill and votes she could manage for her sister-in-law. Most folks had heard of the latest rescue and congratulated her. In spite of such kindness, events like this emphasized her presence as an outsider even as she slogged on in her quest to be accepted.
One family, however, loved Bree in the way she craved. She spotted Palmer and Lily Chambers from across the room and went to join them. Their friendship was birthed in the context of misery loving company, since they were outsiders to Rock Harbor themselves. Lily and Palmer had opened a fitness center after Palmer’s stint as an airplane mechanic in the military was over. Today, two years later, the fitness center still barely limped along, a fact not too surprising, considering most of Rock Harbor’s residents believed true exercise could only be had outdoors. Fishing, swimming, hiking, hunting—all these were acceptable forms. The Chamberses’ high-tech machines were viewed with suspicion that was lifting only little by little.
Lily turned as Bree approached. Her round, homely face was wreathed in smiles of welcome. “Bree, I’ve been meaning to call and invite you to dinner. What are you doing tomorrow night? Or is that too late of a notice?”
“Let’s see, dinner at your home or macaroni and cheese from a box? That’s a no-
brainer, I think.” Bree laughed. “What time, girlfriend?”
Lily turned to Palmer. “Six sound good?”
Palmer nodded. “I should be done with my meeting by five.” He hugged Bree with one arm around her shoulders. “You’ve been too much a stranger lately. Bring Samson; the girls have been yammering to see him.”
Slender with fine blond hair and green eyes, Palmer’s good looks seemed incongruous next to Lily’s plain features. The fact he’d seen beyond Lily’s plain exterior to her beautiful spirit endeared him to Bree. And she adored their two-year-old twins, Paige and Penelope.
“There are some darling puppies at the shelter,” Bree said. “Why don’t I pick up the girls one night next week and take them over to pick one out?”
Palmer wagged his finger at her. “I haven’t decided to get one yet.”
“Oh, Palmer, you know perfectly well you’ll give in sooner or later. You might as well do it gracefully now,” Lily put in.
“We’ll see,” Palmer said, smiling. “Now we’d better go. The sitter will need to get home.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow at six,” Lily reminded Bree.
Bree watched a moment as Palmer and Lily wove their way back through the crowd. A warm contentment settled in her bones. It was nice to have friends like that, friends who cared about her in tangible ways.
Around nine o’clock, her feet throbbing, Bree slipped into a corner and found a chair by the curtains that formed a small hallway between the main hall and a smaller room. Scooting her chair partially into the other room and away from the crowd, she eased out of her shoes and rubbed her feet. Another half an hour and she could go home. She’d look for Naomi next.