“Why don’t you live a little?” Goldie suggested. “Go for the big-time. I’ve got apple pan dowdy in the kitchen.”
Grace nearly choked on her coffee. “Apple pan dowdy over coconut cream pie? I don’t think so.”
“What about chocolate cream pie?” Goldie said next, her hand on her hip.
Grace considered that, but only briefly. “Not interested, sorry.”
“Blueberry?”
“Coconut cream.”
Goldie shook her head, as if bitterly disappointed. “The judge, too?”
Grace nodded. Olivia and Grace remained steadfastly loyal to coconut cream—and to each other.
Still shaking her head, Goldie disappeared into the kitchen.
Sipping her coffee, Grace recalled the afternoon shortly before their high-school graduation, when she’d told Olivia she was pregnant. They’d been sitting in a booth at the Pancake Palace then, too. This was weeks before she’d had the courage to tell her teenage boyfriend. She’d married Dan and shortly afterward he’d joined the army and was shipped off to Vietnam. Grace sighed; she didn’t know why her mind was traveling down that road.
She looked up to see Olivia walking into the restaurant, and although they’d just finished a strenuous physical workout, her friend had hardly a hair out of place. She’d always been like that; she was such a contrast to Jack Griffin, which made their marriage very interesting indeed. Olivia craved order and Jack…well, Jack didn’t. Despite that, or maybe because of it, they succeeded as a couple.
“I ordered the pie,” Grace said when Olivia sat down across from her.
“Great.” She picked up her coffee and after the first sip, exhaled with satisfaction. “How was your week?”
Grace shrugged. “All right, I guess.”
“You guess?”
She’d never managed to keep anything from her friend, she thought with a slight smile. “Cliff talked to Cal, and he’s on his way back to Cedar Cove with two mustangs.”
Olivia studied her carefully and after a short pause, said, “That should be good news, right?”
Grace lowered her gaze. “Normally it would be.” With Cal away in Wyoming, Cliff had been doing Cal’s work as well as his own. Grace didn’t feel she was much help, but she did her best to assist her husband in Cal’s absence.
“What’s going on?” Olivia asked.
Until now, Grace had kept the romance developing between Cal and Vicki Newman to herself. She didn’t believe she had the right to say anything, especially when he’d been so close to Linnette McAfee. Then last Thursday, Linnette had come to her because she’d sensed that something was wrong. Grace wanted to kick Cal for not being more straightforward with the girl.
“Grace?” Olivia said, breaking into her thoughts. “You look a million miles away.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s Cal.”
“You said he’s on his way back.”
“He is, but he dropped a bombshell when he spoke to Cliff last night.” She cupped her hands around the mug, letting the heat warm her palms. “He said he wants to marry Vicki Newman.”
“The vet?” Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “Isn’t he seeing Linnette McAfee?”
“He is…was.”
Olivia opened her mouth, and then abruptly closed it. All she said was a soft, “Oh, my.”
“I know.” Grace shared her friend’s feelings.
“Does Linnette have any idea?”
“Cliff didn’t mention that part, but I assume Cal must’ve at least given her a few hints. She was in the library last week and asked me point-blank if Cliff and I had heard from Cal.”
“You told her?”
Grace felt dreadful about it now. She nodded. “Cliff told me what he suspected was happening between Cal and Vicki. I felt I had to tell her. I tried to be gentle.”
“None of this is your fault.”
It wasn’t her business, either, but she couldn’t leave the poor girl wondering. Now she felt responsible for breaking Linnette’s heart.
Olivia’s hands tightened around her own coffee mug. “Don’t you just want to wring his neck?”
“I certainly think Cal could’ve handled the situation better. Linnette is devastated. From what Corrie said, this is her first really serious relationship.”
“The poor girl,” Olivia murmured sympathetically.
Grace had suspected, at his farewell dinner, that things weren’t going as smoothly between Cal and Linnette as she’d assumed. When she’d discussed it with Cliff later, her husband had said that Cal was awfully eager to leave for Wyoming, eager to get away. Yes, he was genuinely concerned about the mustangs but it was more than that. Cliff hadn’t really understood it at the time; now, however, everything seemed to add up.
“What do you know about Vicki Newman?” Olivia asked.
Grace had taken Buttercup, her golden retriever, to see the vet when the dog had a cancer scare, and she’d been impressed with Vicki’s affection for animals. Sherlock, her cat, had only been in for routine checkups and shots. Vicki was often out at the ranch because of the horses, and had occasionally joined her and Cliff for a coffee. Their conversations tended to be rather stilted.
“She seems nice, but…”
“But what?”
Grace hated to say it out loud. “I find her rather…different. Don’t misunderstand me. I like her, and she’s certainly a skillful vet. She’s always been cordial enough. It’s just that she…communicates better with animals than with people.”
“That could be said for Cal, too, couldn’t it?”
Grace had to agree. “Especially before he started working with the speech therapist,” she recalled. “It was the oddest thing….”
“What was?”
“Whenever he was around the horses, he didn’t stutter at all.” She frowned. “Even though his speech has improved, it’s going to take a lot of effort on his part to learn communication skills. If the way he’s dealt with Linnette is any indication…” Grace couldn’t imagine Cal ever being talkative. She suspected he’d always have trouble sharing his thoughts and feelings with others.
Goldie delivered the pie and refilled their coffee mugs, then stepped away from the table.
“I feel so bad for Linnette.”
“Me, too.” Grace sliced into the pie, feeling a strange sense of sadness. “I just hope Cal’s made the right decision.”
“I do, too.”
“Any news at your end?” Grace asked, eager to hear what Olivia had been up to all week.
“Actually, two pieces of information,” Olivia said.
“I’m all ears.”
“First,” Olivia said, “Mom told me that Ben heard from his older son, Steven.”
“The one who lives in California?”
“No, that’s David. Steven lives on Saint Simons Island in Georgia.”
“Right.” Grace remembered that now. Will Jefferson, Olivia’s brother, lived in the same state; he was definitely not someone she wanted to think about.
“Apparently, David’s in some kind of financial mess and went to his brother for a loan. Steven called to tell his father about it.”
Grace leaned back. “David’s money problem surprises you?”
“Not really. I remember how he tried to swindle my mother out of five thousand dollars.” Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “It makes me mad every time I think about him giving my mother this ludicrous story about needing surgery.”
“Oh, brother.”
“Apparently he already declared bankruptcy a couple of years ago and now there’s no easy solution.”
“He’s being hounded by creditors?” Grace asked. She’d had some experience of that soon after Dan disappeared. It’d been a nightmarish time in her life. She didn’t wish those kinds of pressures on anyone, David Rhodes included. “What I recall is that he asked you to fix his traffic ticket.”
“Like I’d even consider such a thing.”
Grace swallowed another bite of pie. “You said you had two pieces
of information.”
Olivia set her fork aside and seemed to be carefully choosing her words. “I don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about,” she began.
“What?” Grace demanded. “Concerned about what?”
“It has to do with my brother, Will,” Olivia informed her.
Grace did her best to appear completely indifferent. “What about him?” He was nothing to her any longer, other than a source of profound embarrassment.
“I know I probably mentioned that he and Georgia are getting divorced. They’ve sold the house and the proceeds have been equally divided between them.”
“Oh.” Grace responded to the news with sadness—not for Will but for his long-suffering wife. Poor Georgia. Grace could all too easily imagine what she must’ve endured through the years. Closing her eyes, Grace acknowledged a sense of guilt for her part in this, and regret that she might have caused the other woman pain. She’d been foolish to get involved with Will. So foolish… Grace had known he was married, which only intensified her guilt. She suspected their emotional affair wasn’t his first, nor was it likely his last. Granted, she hadn’t slept with him but probably would have if the relationship had continued. And according to Olivia, he’d had other actual affairs.
Olivia seemed to be watching her closely.
Grace gave a beleaguered sigh. “There’s more, isn’t there.” She could feel it coming.
Olivia nodded. “Will told Mom he was moving back to Cedar Cove.”
Grace stared at her in horrified silence. “You’ve got to be kidding! What about his job?”
“He’s retired now and seems to be at loose ends.”
Grace closed her eyes. The last time Will came to town had been a disaster. This was shortly after she’d broken off the relationship. He’d insisted she didn’t know what she was doing and that he loved her. At one point, Cliff had stepped in and, in a fit of anger and jealousy, Will had taken a swing at him. It’d been a dreadful scene, a public spectacle, with Will threatening to press charges. Thankfully Olivia had witnessed the episode and made it clear that Will didn’t stand a chance of having any charges stick.
“I’m worried,” Olivia said.
“About me and Cliff?” Grace asked and made a weak dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t be.”
“No,” Olivia told her. “I’m concerned about Will. Mom is, too. She suggested he rethink this move. It’s too drastic, especially so soon after the divorce. He needs to stay where he is. And…”
Olivia hesitated and took a deep breath. “What bothers me more than anything is that my brother, who can be as clueless as a Keystone Kop, might assume you’re still available.”
“Will knows I’m married.” She remembered that Olivia had expressly told him.
“He knows, all right,” Olivia said. “But a little thing like a wedding band, including the one on his finger, hasn’t stopped him before. He might have the mistaken impression that it won’t stop you, either.”
Grace swallowed. “Then I’ll just have to tell him.” Cliff would be happy to oblige in that regard, too; however, she had every intention of keeping the two men away from each other.
Thirty-Five
The first time Anson Butler kissed Allison Cox was last October, after a Friday-night football game. Instead of attending the Homecoming dance, they’d sat in the bleachers and talked long after everyone else had left. Allison remembered that kiss as clearly as if it’d just happened. She’d had boyfriends before and had dated a jock while she was a junior. Clay was a really nice guy, popular and funny, but his interests were limited and they didn’t have much in common. They broke up shortly after the prom.
Anson was different. They’d had a couple of classes together the year before, but she hadn’t really noticed him until this year, when they sat across from each other in French. His language skills were impressive, and he seemed to catch on faster than anyone else. Allison hated the way he’d downplayed his abilities and made light of his intelligence. Thinking back, she decided it was his sense of humor, unexpectedly wry, that had initially attracted her.
Sitting in the bleachers now, in the same row as she had during that first kiss, Allison closed her eyes and tried to recapture the exciting sensations she’d experienced that night.
It’d been really cold, she recalled, and the lights on the field were off. Clouds scudding across the sky had frequently obscured the full moon; the intermittent darkness had given them a feeling of seclusion, of privacy. Anson wore his long black coat with a knit stocking cap pulled down over his ears. He didn’t wear gloves and his hands had been cold to the touch. Unlike him, Allison was bundled up head to foot in a red coat and scarf, hat, mittens and boots with wool socks.
They sat huddled together against the wind. The music spilled faintly from the gym, where everyone was dancing. He’d ditched his friends and she had hers.
Anson had amused her that night, speaking in French, making up words. She’d laughed at something he’d said and then, for no reason, they weren’t laughing anymore. Anson had leaned forward to kiss her, hesitant, as if waiting for Allison to stop him. All she could do was hope that he wouldn’t stop. When their lips met, his were cold and chapped. Hers were warm and moist, and she parted them slightly, wanting him to know how glad she was to receive his kiss.
The moment was perfect. Afterward, they’d stared at each other for a long time, and then Anson had said that kissing her was even better than he’d expected. For her, too.
Her phone rang, jolting Allison out of those comforting memories. She snapped open her cell and saw that he was right on time. “Anson?” she whispered.
“I’m here. You got the message from Shaw?”
She nodded. His friend had called the night before and told her Anson would phone at nine. That was all he said, then he’d simply cut off the connection. “He seems to enjoy playing courier.”
“Shaw’s a good friend,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “Oh, Anson, I miss you so much.” She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, but she’d had some bad news and was struggling to hold it in. The last thing Anson needed was her dissolving into tears over a matter that didn’t involve him. There was nothing he could do.
“How was graduation?” he asked.
“All right. I wish you’d been there. The rose was beautiful. Thank you so much for that, and the message, too.” Her faith in him might have wavered, but Anson continued to love her.
“You talked to the sheriff?” he asked, getting directly to the point. “About the information Shaw gave you?”
“Yes. I told my father and we went in to see the sheriff on Monday.” This next part shouldn’t come as any surprise, so she drew in a deep breath. “Sheriff Davis wants to talk to you.”
Anson snickered. “Sure he does.”
“Anson, you can’t stay in hiding for the rest of your life!”
The returning silence rang like an alarm between them.
“I tried,” he finally said.
“You tried?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I phoned the sheriff.”
“You talked to Sheriff Davis?” This was wonderful news, but no one had said a word to her. “I didn’t know, I thought—”
“No, I didn’t talk to him,” Anson said. “I tried to talk to him. He wasn’t there. I asked when he’d be available and I got this runaround. No one seemed to be able to tell me.”
Allison found that difficult to believe, until she remembered overhearing a conversation between her parents. “Oh, I can explain. His wife died recently. You must’ve phoned at that time.”
“What happened to his wife?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but Mom said she’d been sick for years.” It all made sense now. “He took some time off after the funeral.” She was encouraged by Anson’s effort. “Try again, okay?”
Anson seemed to consider her suggestion. “Maybe I will.”
“You didn’t tell the people a
t the sheriff’s office who you were—did you?” She felt positive he would’ve received more cooperation if he’d identified himself.
“No… The only person I want to talk to is the sheriff himself.”
“Well. I know he’s back in the office. My dad mentioned it last night.”
“Okay.”
All at once there didn’t seem to be anything more to say. “Thank you for the rose,” she said again. Allison had pressed it between the pages of a thick book, wanting to save it forever. The card, too.
“I’d’ve given anything to be with you.”
“I know.”
Some unidentifiable noise drifted into the background, and she wondered where Anson was. “I should go,” he murmured.
“Are you taking care of yourself?” she asked.
“I’m doing all right. What about you?”
“I’m okay.”
“Just okay?” he asked.
She was silent for a moment. “Do you know where I am, Anson?” Of course he didn’t. “The football field,” she told him.
“In the bleachers?”
She smiled, holding the small phone close to her ear. “And do you know why this spot is so special to me?”
“It’s where I kissed you the first time.”
He did remember.
“All I could think about that night was kissing you. You looked so pretty. Your cheeks were rosy with the cold and you wore this bright red coat…. I figured you could go with any guy you wanted and yet you were with me.”
“Don’t,” she said, her throat tightening.
“Don’t?”
“If you keep on talking like that, I might start to cry.” She tried for a humorous approach. “I look terrible when I cry.”
“I wish I could kiss you right now.”
“Me, too.” It was at this point that she lost her composure. “Oh, Anson. I can’t go on like this.”