Rose Harbor in Bloom

  Somehow they got sidetracked on politics. It was no surprise to learn they were diametrically opposed. She argued with him for several minutes until it became apparent that he was enjoying egging her on.

  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” she said, setting her spoon aside. Although she hadn’t been hungry when she’d ordered, she’d eaten everything. “Aren’t you?” she repeated. In all her life there’d never been a man she disagreed with more than Oliver Sutton.

  In response, all he did was smile.

  “You make me so mad, and you do it on purpose.” She couldn’t forgive that; nor was she willing to drop the subject. “Admit it!”

  “Okay, you’re right. Guilty as charged.”

  “Why?” It was probably a mistake to ask, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “You won’t like the answer.”

  “No doubt,” she muttered.

  “The truth is, I love watching your eyes light up and sparkle,” he said. “You can’t hide how you feel, no matter how hard you try.”

  Annie wasn’t amused.

  “I enjoy sparring with you,” Oliver admitted. “You keep my wits sharpened.”

  “I’m pleased you find me so entertaining.”

  “I find you a lot more than entertaining, Annie,” he said, his voice soft and low.

  She wanted to ask what he meant by that but didn’t because she was afraid of the answer. At some point during the evening she’d lowered her defenses and discovered she was enjoying spending time with him. The dinner she’d hoped would be over as quickly as possible went on for more than two hours. They walked back to the inn and detoured along the waterfront.

  “You know who this reminds me of, don’t you?” he asked.

  The night was chilly, and Annie wrapped her sweater more securely around her shoulders. In what she supposed was an effort to warm her, Oliver wrapped his arm around her, bringing her next to his side. The action unsettled her, and she meant to move away but he was warm and she found a certain comfort in being close to him. Even when warning bells rang in her ears, she ignored the voices shouting Caution! and stayed as she was.

  “Who does this remind you of?” she asked, echoing his question.

  “Your grandparents.”

  That had to be a poor attempt at a joke. “Oh, hardly.”

  “They argue, too, don’t they?”

  “Okay, I concede that point.”

  “They’re about as different as two people can get.”

  “Right again.”

  “But they balance each other out.”

  “Okay, okay, we are like my grandparents in certain ways. However,” she added, raising her index finger to punctuate her point, “and this is major, I’m not even close to falling in love with you, and I think I know how you feel about me and it isn’t anything near affection.”

  “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” he countered.

  Because she was highly amused, Annie laughed.

  Her cell phone chirped, and Annie pulled it out of her purse. Sure enough, it was Lenny. Again. She didn’t answer him. Instead, she hit the ignore button and slid the phone back into place.

  “Lenny?” Oliver asked, as they slowly walked in the direction of the inn.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Annie didn’t need to think about her answer. “No.” Her emphatic, one-word answer said it all.

  “Then why haven’t you blocked his phone number?”

  Again, his logic left her tongue-tied and unable to understand herself or how to explain it to anyone else.

  “Are you hoping he will change your mind? Do you secretly want to marry him?”

  “No way.” As far as she was concerned, their relationship was dead, with no chance of resurrecting it. She’d told Lenny, and she meant it, that the engagement was off. Forever. They were finished.

  “If you’re sincere, then block his number.”

  Oliver was right. She should have done this immediately after she broke the engagement. Reaching for her phone a second time in as many minutes, she clicked a handful of buttons and blocked Lenny’s calls to her from a variety of numbers.

  “I don’t want him to change my mind, and I don’t love him,” she said when she’d finished. “It was my ego, I think. I wanted to know that he wouldn’t give me up easily. I guess I wanted to hear that he was miserable. He hurt me, and I wanted him to be hurt, too. That’s a weak excuse, and I find it fairly embarrassing to admit, but it’s the truth.” Why she felt the need to confess this in front of Oliver was another of life’s mysteries. Especially when at some future date he would very likely use this information against her.

  “We’re all human,” Oliver assured her.

  She glanced up at him. Once more there was a subtle shift in their relationship. Since the time she was a young teen until just that morning, she’d thought of him as someone to be avoided at all costs. She’d lowered her guard with him once before, and he’d used that blind trust she’d placed in him to humiliate her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “What makes you think anything is wrong?” she countered. Two could play the game of answering one question with another.

  “Your shoulders just stiffened.”

  “Did they?” She hoped this irritated him as much as it had her.

  “Yes,” he said, and then surprised her by gripping both her shoulders and turning her so that she had no choice but to face him. “What are you thinking?”

  “What makes you think I’ve got anything on my mind?”

  “It’s that stupid kiss again, isn’t it?” he asked, frowning darkly.

  She tried to back away, but he wouldn’t let her, his hands tightening slightly, keeping her in place.

  “It might have been stupid to you,” she flared, “but it was my first kiss. At the time I thought myself madly in love with you, only to discover it was all one big joke to you.”

  “It wasn’t a joke to me,” he said, calmly, smoothly.

  “Oh, sure; you say that now, but you sang a different tune back then. If that’s the case, then why did you have everyone laughing at me? My brother taunted me for weeks afterward. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life.” She’d been mortified.

  Her brother and several of her cousins had caught them kissing. Instead of quieting the others, Oliver had pointed a finger at her and laughed, too. Not knowing what else to do, Annie had run into the house, covered her face with both hands, and broken down in tears.

  “I’m sorry, Annie,” he said with such gentleness and contriteness that she forced her gaze to meet his. “It was my first kiss, too,” Oliver confessed.

  “No, it wasn’t. You said …”

  “I lied.”

  “Why?” she asked with wide eyes.

  “Because I was fourteen and sadly not very bright. I was embarrassed and afraid of being teased by my friends, but I was crazy about you.”

  “And so you threw me under the bus.”

  “Yes, and I’ve regretted it ever since. If nothing else comes of this weekend, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for being young and stupid and a complete jerk.”

  Annie felt herself drowning in his eyes, which seemed to go deep and dark with sincerity. Slowly, she nodded.

  “Thank you,” he said, and then right there on Harbor Street under a streetlamp, Oliver kissed her for a second time that day. And for a second time she welcomed him into her arms.

  Their first kiss as young teens had been all teeth and lips, but they’d both learned a great deal since then. Oliver’s kiss went through her like an electric charge. She felt it in every part of her body. Every cell seemed to hum with anticipation, seeking more, wanting more.

  When they broke apart, Annie noticed that Oliver was breathing as hard as she was, as if they’d been involved in a heated race. He held her for several moments and then kissed the top of her head.

  Together
they returned to the inn, but neither spoke again. They climbed the stairs and went to their separate rooms with little more than a murmured, “Good night.”

  Not until she was getting ready for bed sometime later did she remember something he’d said: If nothing else comes of this weekend …

  Just exactly what did Oliver intend to happen this weekend?

  Chapter 16

  I knew Saturday would be a big day for Kent and Julie Shivers, as their family and friends gathered for the celebration of their fiftieth wedding anniversary. I wondered if the couple could pull it off, as they seemed to be constantly at odds.

  By eight o’clock I had breakfast ready. The scent of freshly baked scones drifting through the house must have roused my guests. Annie appeared first, slowly making her way down the stairs as if she’d had trouble sleeping. Seeing how she’d been primarily responsible for all the arrangements, I imagined she had spent the night mentally going over every detail one last time. I was about to comment and then decided against it. In addition to the celebration, she must be worried about her grandparents.

  “Good morning,” I greeted her, and automatically lifted the coffeepot. From the tired look in Annie’s eyes, I figured she would need a caffeine boost.

  “Morning.” She reached for a mug, and I poured her coffee.

  No sooner had I finished when Oliver trotted down the stairs. In contrast, he looked chipper and bright, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He reached for a mug, and I filled his as well. I couldn’t help but notice how Annie avoided eye contact with him. In fact, she seemed to go out of her way not to look in his direction at all.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he said to Annie, and kissed her cheek.

  I watched as color automatically flooded Annie’s face. She glared at him, and seeing how much the kiss had flustered her, Oliver laughed.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Oliver said, and after setting his mug down on the dining room table, he stretched his arms high above his head. “A very special day.”

  The two were soon joined by Kent and Julie. I suspected my other guests who were part of this family gathering would be arriving at the inn soon. The inn was booked solid for Saturday night. Most everyone was involved in one way or another with helping the Shivers celebrate their anniversary—and then, of course, there was Mary Smith.

  I’d seen her only briefly and worried about her, as she spent the majority of her time in her room. Although, as I recalled, she’d mentioned earlier that she would be going into Seattle to spend the day with a friend. I hoped the outing wouldn’t be too much for her physically.

  “I have scones hot from the oven.”

  “Scones,” Kent echoed, and rubbed his palms together. “I love warm scones.”

  “Since when?” Julie insisted.

  Kent scowled back at her. “Since forever.”

  “You might have told me.”

  “Why? So you can talk about my dangerous cholesterol levels?”

  “Someone needs to watch what you eat, because you seem incapable of doing it yourself. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be on twenty medications a day.”

  Kent looked over at Annie and shook his head. “Your grandmother is impossible.”

  “Well, so are you,” Julie flared, and then immediately let loose with three sneezes in rapid succession. Grabbing a tissue, she held it to her nose. “Your grandfather insisted on sleeping with the window open. I was cold the entire night. I might come down with pneumonia and die, but that’s probably what he wants.”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks.”

  “I about froze to death.”

  “I don’t know how, when you closed that window every chance you got.”

  “That’s because you kept opening it,” Julie complained.

  Kent ignored her, and as if to defy her, he reached for a warm scone and slathered it with both butter and strawberry jam and then made a display of taking a huge bite.

  “You’re acting like a two-year-old,” Julie said, and then, looking to Annie and Oliver, she added, “I hope you’ll overlook your grandfather’s little temper tantrum.”

  Fearing that their exchange might escalate into a full-blown argument as it had the day before, I hurriedly asked, “Anyone for orange juice?”

  Both Annie and Oliver quickly responded. It seemed they shared my fears.

  The heated exchange between Kent and Julie the night before had been enough for me. Playing the role of referee didn’t suit me in the least.

  Julie looked to her granddaughter. “Do you need my help with anything today?” she asked.

  Before Annie could respond, Oliver answered, “That’s why I’m here. Annie can count on me to be her go-to person.”

  At first Annie looked a bit startled, but after a short pause, she agreed. “This is a day for you and Grandpa to enjoy,” their granddaughter assured them. “Everything is ready, and I know how much family and friends are looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Your grandmother bought a new outfit for this shindig,” Kent said, frowning at his wife. “Cost more than her wedding dress.”

  “My wedding dress, if you recall, was one I purchased that morning at the J. C. Penney store in downtown Bremerton. I didn’t even have a real wedding dress, because you were in such an all-fired hurry to get married.”

  “As I recall, there was a reason for the big rush. I was being shipped out, and you thought you could be pregnant.”

  Clearly mortified, Julie gasped.

  Seeing that the morning was rapidly deteriorating, I returned to the kitchen, grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, and quickly carried it into the dining room.

  “Grandpa,” Annie said, “you’re not going to mention that at the party, are you?”

  “He’ll do it just to embarrass me in front of our entire family.”

  Kent narrowed his eyes. “What’d you say?”

  “I’ll talk to him later, Grandma,” Annie promised. “Don’t you worry; he won’t say anything to embarrass you.”

  “If he does, I swear I will just die.”

  “Don’t worry,” Annie said again, and patted Julie’s hand.

  “Would you two stop mumbling?” Kent asked.

  I returned to the kitchen and reached for the sausage patties, the bacon, and the cheesy egg dish that my guests seemed to comment on every time I served it. I brought the platter in from the kitchen and set it in the middle of the table, but unfortunately no one seemed to be the least bit interested in enjoying the meal I had so carefully prepared. Oh, dear, I did hope this day didn’t turn out to be a disaster for Annie and her family.

  With several guests arriving and checking in, my morning was sure to be busy.

  Annie and Oliver were the first ones to leave the table. Annie announced she had some last-minute details to see to, and Oliver followed her up the stairs, volunteering to help.

  “You can help me set up the hall for the reception,” I heard Annie tell him.

  “Happy to do it.”

  I saw Julie’s gaze follow them. She caught me watching her. “I would so love it if those two became an item.”

  “Julie, stay out of it,” Kent insisted. “What happens between them is none of your affair.”

  “I’ll do what I darn well please,” Annie’s grandmother returned, glaring at her husband of fifty years.

  Kent snorted and shook his head. “You will, anyway. You’re a willful, stubborn woman.”

  “Willful and stubborn? Well, it takes one to know one.”

  The two sounded like children on a playground, tossing out insults at each other.

  “Forget it. I can’t even talk to you anymore,” Julie muttered. “I don’t even know why I try.”

  “What’d you say?” Kent demanded.

  Sighing with frustration, Julie walked away. A moment later, Kent followed her back to their room.

  By nine, the breakfast room was nearly deserted when Mary came down, taking the steps slowly. Her color was good, and she smiled when I
wished her a good morning.

  “Thank you. You, too.”

  She automatically went into the dining room and pulled out a chair. After she took her place at the table, I brought her a cup of tea, knowing she preferred that over coffee.

  “Thank you,” Mary said simply.

  “Can I tempt you with a freshly baked scone? They’re still warm from the oven.”

  “Yes, that would be great.”

  “Eggs, bacon, sausage?”

  Mary shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t have much of an appetite these days. A scone and orange juice will do me nicely.” Knowing that she preferred her own company, I headed back into the kitchen and started in on the dishes and putting away the leftovers. Rover remained curled up in his bed while he watched my every move. Thinking about the leftovers, I was tempted to contact Mark. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. He could be such a grouch, I wasn’t sure the effort would be appreciated.

  The phone rang, and grabbing a dish towel, I wiped my hands dry as I headed into the office.

  “Rose Harbor Inn,” I answered.

  “Jo Marie, it’s Dennis Milford.”

  My knees nearly went out from under me. I’d been waiting to hear from the lieutenant colonel ever since our last conversation. A huge lump instantly formed in my throat.

  “I promised to get back to you as soon as I had any information.”

  “Yes.” I could barely squeeze out a reply.

  “The remains have been extracted from the helicopter crash site.”

  My grip on the phone was so tight that I lost feeling in my fingers. Instantly, my head filled with a dozen questions. Try as I might, I couldn’t force a single one past the constriction in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, tensing. Any hope I had that my husband had managed to survive the crash was about to be dashed against the sharp, rock-hard edges of reality. I braced myself for what was to come next.

  “And?” I prodded.