“Give your lawyer my cell phone number.”
“Yeah, right. You forget to carry it half the time, and if you do, the battery is low.”
“Whatever. Give your attorney the number to my business line, seeing that you’re so hot to sue me.”
“I’ll do that.” My back went rigid as Mark stalked off the property. I looked down at Rover, who’d cocked his head to one side as if he, too, found it difficult to understand what had just happened and why. He wasn’t the only one.
“He isn’t worth the angst,” I advised my dog, and then, because I was half afraid Rover might be tempted to run after Mark, I squatted down and patted his head. “Everything takes ten times longer than he estimates, anyway.” Raising my voice in the hopes that Mark would hear me, I added, “Good riddance.”
I stood back up and remained in the middle of my yard until Mark was completely out of view. Then and only then did I allow my shoulders to sag with defeat.
This was nuts. Barely an hour earlier we’d been sipping coffee and tea on the porch, and now I was threatening Mark with a lawsuit. And the way I felt right then, he deserved it.
Returning to my window washing, I was so agitated that I scrubbed and washed the glass until the shine nearly blinded me. I finished in record time, the muscles in my upper arms aching from the vigorous scrubbing I’d done. For half a second I was tempted to contact Mark and let him know I’d survived this dangerous feat but then thought better of it. He would have to apologize to me because he’d been way off base, treating me like I was a child.
My apologizing to him simply wasn’t going to happen. But I knew him well enough to realize how stubborn he could be. If he said he wasn’t coming back, then I had to believe he meant it.
My anger carried me all the way into the evening. I didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was I would miss Mark. I’d sort of grown accustomed to having him stop by every so often, if for no other reason than coffee. He offered great feedback on the cookies and other items I baked. We’d grown comfortable with each other. He was a friend, nothing more, and I appreciated that we could be simply that: friends.
In an effort to distract myself, I emptied the dirty wash water from the bucket in the laundry-room sink, rinsed out the sponge, and set it out to dry, and then went into my small office.
I had guests arriving this weekend, which was the good news and the bad news. The first name I saw on the list was for the mysterious Mary Smith. I took the reservation shortly after taking over the inn, and it had stayed in my mind. Mary had sounded unsure, hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing booking this room.
A party had booked the inn as well. The original call had come in from Kent Shivers, who hadn’t sounded the least bit excited about all this hoopla his family had planned for him. Kent and his wife, Julie, were about to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary by renewing their vows. Other room reservations had been added at later dates, all from family members. Seven of my eight rooms were booked for Saturday.
Only one of the guests would be here through Sunday evening, though, and that was Mary Smith. Remembering her hesitation, I’d half wondered if she’d cancel at the last minute, but to this point I hadn’t heard otherwise. Her room was made up and ready.
I didn’t have much of an appetite for dinner and ate chips and salsa, which wasn’t anything I’d normally choose. Because I was restless and at loose ends I decided to bake peanut-butter cookies, one of my favorites. It wasn’t until they were cooling on the countertop that I remembered they were Mark’s favorite, too.
Rover curled up on the rug in front of the refrigerator, one of his favorite spots. He seemed content, but I was restless, pacing the kitchen, and then a short while later moving from one room to another. Once in my private quarters, I tried to knit, but I ended up making one mistake after another and finally stuffed the project back into the basket. Television didn’t hold my interest, either. A book I’d found fascinating just the night before bored me now.
I might as well admit it. All this fidgeting was due to my argument with Mark. In retrospect I wished I’d handled the situation differently. But really, what could I have done? Mark seemed bound and determined to argue with me. He was the one who’d gone completely off his rocker. Oh, great, now I was thinking in clichés, but it was true—our clash of wills was all due to his being high-handed and completely unreasonable.
Really, who else would go ballistic over something so ridiculous as washing windows because I chose to stand on a stepladder? He’d been rude, demanding, and utterly irrational. I wasn’t putting up with that. Not from him; not from anyone.
Still, it saddened me that it had come to this.
Rover lifted his head from his spot in front of the fireplace and then rested his chin on his paws.
“Just think of all the money I’ll save in flour and sugar,” I said in a weak attempt at making a joke.
It felt flat even to my own ears.
Okay, I’d admit it. I was going to miss Mark.
Chapter 2
I didn’t sleep well, which wasn’t surprising after my tiff with Mark. I did feel bad about our disagreement, but I couldn’t allow him, or anyone else, to dictate to me what I could and couldn’t do in my own home.
If he was intent on breaking the contract, then so be it. The threat of a lawsuit hadn’t fazed him in the least. I’d spoken in the heat of the moment and regretted that. I’d leave matters as they were for the time being until we’d both cooled down.
With no guests to prepare breakfast for, I took my time, luxuriating in not having any demands placed on me first thing in the morning, although Mary Smith would be arriving sometime before lunch. Rover followed me into the kitchen, where I brewed myself a cup of coffee. I walked out on the front porch, leaning against the round column, holding my mug while Rover did his business, watering the front lawn. When he finished, he leaped up the porch steps, bounding with such energy that I couldn’t keep from smiling.
The sky was overcast and gray, threatening rain. My hope was the sun would burn off the clouds and eventually shine. Sipping my coffee, I looked over my torn-up yard where I’d hoped to have roses in bloom and slowly exhaled, feeling frustrated and irritated.
I had some baking I wanted to do that morning, muffins this time. I made a mental note to contact either Grace Harding at the library or Peggy and Bob Beldon, who owned another Cedar Cove B&B, about who I might hire to finish planting the roses and building the gazebo. One thing I could guarantee: whoever took on the job would complete it long before Mark ever would have, had he not quit.
I went inside and fed Rover, and as I was putting his food back in the pantry, I heard a car door close. Checking my watch, I saw it was early yet, barely seven-thirty. The side door opened, and I heard Hailey call my name.
“I’m in here,” I shouted back, and Rover hurried over to greet her.
Hailey Tremont was the high school senior I’d hired, recommended by Grace Harding. Hailey came in twice a week to help me with housekeeping chores and anything else I needed done.
She rounded the corner, leading into the kitchen. “Morning,” she said, and bent over to pet Rover. She was a pretty girl, petite and sweet-natured. She was small for her age, and looking at her, I found it hard to believe she was eighteen years old.
A few weeks back Grace had asked if I could use help. Apparently, Hailey’s family owned property next to Grace and her husband’s ranch in the Olalla area. Grace told me Hailey hoped for a career in the hospitality business and needed a part-time job. It would give the teenager experience and a little nest egg before she headed off to college in the fall.
“I wanted to see if you needed me Saturday or Sunday,” she asked.
I knew the high school graduation ceremony was scheduled for this weekend. “What day is your graduation?”
“Sunday. I could work if you felt you needed me.” She looked down. “My grandparents will be in town and my aunt Melanie, too, but I cou
ld stop by.”
I could use the help on Sunday, but I wouldn’t ask her to come in on the day of her graduation. “Why don’t you come after school today and tomorrow?” I glanced up. “Does that upset your schedule?”
“No, that’s perfect.” Her eyes brightened when she realized she was free on Sunday.
I wished I had more hours to give her, but my business was just getting off the ground.
“I’ll be here this afternoon.”
“Perfect,” I told her.
Hailey glanced at her wrist. “I better get to school. It seems a little silly to attend classes when all our assignments are in and we’ve already gotten our grades. I think most of us go simply because we know these are the last days we’ll be together.”
I remembered my own graduation. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I’d drifted away from most of my high school friends, but stayed in contact with my two best friends. Diane had moved to Texas, was married with two children, and Katie lived in north Seattle. Katie was married with three children. We kept in touch on Facebook and by email, although it’d been far too long since we’d last gotten together. I promised myself I’d make the effort to have Katie over to Cedar Cove soon. She’d seen the inn after I’d first bought it and loved it as much as I did.
“I better head off to class, or non-class,” Hailey said, and added a short laugh. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
“Great.” I got out the mixing bowl and the other ingredients I’d need for the muffins.
I had the cookbook open in front of me and brought out the necessary ingredients when I heard a noise outside. I paused, but I didn’t investigate right away. I had a sneaky suspicion it was Mark.
When I peeked out the foyer window, I saw that I was right. Mark stood looking down on the grass he’d dug up in order to plant the rose garden. My guess was he felt as bad about our disagreement as I did and wanted to set matters straight. Most likely he’d just begin working again and pretend yesterday had never happened.
I wouldn’t ask for an apology, although I felt he owed me one. For that matter, I probably owed him one, too. My shoulders relaxed, and I hesitated. I didn’t realize how tense our disagreement had made me, nor did I want to admit how glad I was to see him.
I decided to play it cool. I’d wait a few minutes, pour him a cup of coffee, and tell him I intended on baking muffins and see how he reacted. I watched the clock, and after five very slow minutes I brought down a coffee mug, filled it, and carried it outside. I hesitated on the top step.
Mark was nowhere in sight.
I couldn’t imagine where he’d gone but then noticed the door to the large tool shed was cracked open. I walked down the steps to the shed, opened the door, and turned on the light. Mark wasn’t there. In that short amount of time, just minutes, Mark had come and gone, taking with him the few items he’d stored at my place.
It looked like he was serious about breaking the contract. He’d had all night to think matters over. If he felt the same in the light of a new day, that told me he didn’t have any regrets. Well, so much for that.
I heard the phone ring in the distance and hurried back into the house. I dumped the coffee on the lawn, rather than risk spilling it in my rush to get to the phone.
“Rose Harbor Inn,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.
“Good morning,” a cheerful male voice greeted me.
“Morning,” I replied.
“I’m calling to see if you have any more rooms available starting tomorrow and through the weekend.”
I didn’t need to check my reservation book to know that I did. “I only have one room left.”
“Great; book it. I’ll be driving Kent and Julie Shivers from Portland. My name is Sutton, Oliver Sutton, and I’m a longtime family friend. I’ll be in town for their anniversary party.”
“Yes, yes, I have their reservation right here,” I said, glancing down at the book. The family would be gathering in Cedar Cove. I had to wonder why they would choose to come all the way from Oregon to our sleepy town, but I figured I’d find out soon enough.
“Would it be possible to give the Shivers a room on the bottom floor?” he asked. “I’m assuming there are stairs from the photo of the inn I viewed online?”
“Actually, the inn has guest rooms on three floors, but fortunately I do have a room on the main level.” It was my favorite one, larger than the other rooms, with a love seat and fireplace. It had a beautiful view of the cove, and when the weather was clear the Olympic Mountains shone as a backdrop. Some days they were so breathtakingly beautiful it was all I could do not to simply stare at them.
“Is it available?” Oliver asked.
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. I’m afraid stairs are a bit much for Kent these days, although he’d never admit it.”
“I can switch rooms without a problem, but there’s a slight price difference.” It was only fair that I tell him that.
“No problem. Just add that to my bill, if you would.”
“Okay. Do you have a preference when it comes to your room?” I asked.
He hesitated. “Annie Newton has also booked a room at the inn, is that right?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she has.” I’d met Annie a couple of times, although only briefly. She was the Shivers’s granddaughter and the reason I knew that the Shivers were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Annie lived in the Seattle area and had stopped by to check out the inn and make other arrangements for the family gathering. I’d learned she was a party planner by profession, and had taken on organizing the event.
“If possible, I’d like a room on the same floor as Annie’s.”
“I can do that.” That meant shifting Mary Smith to another room, but that wouldn’t be a problem.
“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, with the Shivers. I plan to arrive around noon.”
I took his credit card information and paused as I looked down. I’d taken the reservation for Mary Smith the same day that Kent Shivers had phoned. Both conversations had stayed in my mind, which was unusual.
By mid-morning, the scent of the carrot-and-pineapple muffins filled my kitchen. The recipe was a new one, and I was anxious to try it out. The ingredient list called for walnuts, raisins, and flaxseed. Filled with fruit, nuts, and seeds, they were healthy, and if the heavenly scent coming from the oven was anything to go by, they would be delicious, too. I also planned to bake cookies, if time allowed.
Hailey arrived around two, when the kitchen countertops were lined with cookies and the muffins rested on top of the stove.
“Where would you like me to start?” she asked, after setting her backpack inside my office.
I gave her a detailed list that I’d made up earlier. She read it over, asked me a couple of questions, and then set about completing the tasks. While she was busy I worked in the kitchen. I finished loading the dishwasher, and after placing the cookies for the open house in an air-tight storage container, I wiped down the countertops.
I planned to serve the muffins with breakfast over the weekend. My baking for the open house was just getting started. I had several cookbooks spread out across the table when I heard the sound of a car approaching.
I looked out the window as the driver parked the car, climbed out, and then came around to the other side of the vehicle and opened the passenger door. A woman I could only assume was Mary Smith slid out and paused as she viewed the inn. She was an elegantly dressed businesswoman.
I removed my apron, and with Rover at my heels met her on the walkway leading to the front door.
“Hello and welcome,” I said. “I’m Jo Marie Rose. Welcome to Rose Harbor Inn.”
“Thank you,” she returned with a faint New York accent.
I recognized the high-end designer suit immediately and realized it was slightly too big for her. It wasn’t until then that I noticed the scarf on her head cleverly disguised the fact that she had lost her hair. Mary Smith appea
red to have recently undergone chemotherapy. She had cancer, and I could only speculate what would bring her all the way from New York to Cedar Cove and Rose Harbor Inn.
Chapter 3
Exhausted from the long flight out of Newark, Mary Smith lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. The desire to visit Cedar Cove had come after she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. It’d been an impulse motivated by fear, she realized. The truth was she never actually expected to make the trip. She wasn’t an impulsive woman. She lived a purposeful life. Flying all the way across the country on a whim was completely unlike her, and yet … yet here she was.
Mary had intentionally booked a nonstop flight into Seattle so she wouldn’t have to change planes. She feared the necessity of rushing from one gate to another might have completely worn her out physically. As it was, the six-hour flight between the east and west coasts had utterly drained her. Yet tired as she was, she found it impossible to nap. Her mind raced, tumbling back through the years … to the decisions she’d made and the man she’d once loved.
For all she knew George might still live in Seattle. The last she’d heard, nineteen years ago—oh, had it really been that long?—he’d married. Mary wanted him to be happy, which was one reason she didn’t plan on contacting him. She’d stayed completely out of his life and that wasn’t going to change.
The app on her phone displayed the weather forecast for the next five days, including the weekend. What she remembered, having lived in the Seattle area for almost a year, was that it had rained almost continually. As if to contradict her, the app showed nearly five days of sunshine, which came as an unexpected bonus. What she was surprised to learn, once she’d left Seattle for a position on the East Coast, was that New York City received a higher annual rainfall than Seattle. But then Seattle had the drizzle factor and more days in which the skies were gray and overcast.
The song that said the bluest skies they’d ever seen were in Seattle had it right, though. Despite the weather, whatever it might be, Seattle would always hold a special place in her heart. It was here that she’d fallen in love, truly, deeply in love, for the one and only time in her life.