Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2
Mack nodded, caught up in her excitement.
“Joan worked at the Bremerton shipyard,” Mary Jo went on, “and she lived with her older sister. Elaine—that’s her sister—was married and her husband was somewhere in the South Pacific. I gather Joan met the major at a USO dance and they started writing after he shipped out to England.”
Mack gently bounced the baby, to Noelle’s evident approval. “I’d like to take a look at the letters,” he said.
“Here’s the first one. I put them in chronological order.” She unfolded the letter carefully and handed it to him.
Maj. Jacob Dennison
36354187 Hgs. Co.
Hgs. Cond. 1st
Service Platoon.
U.K. Base APO 413%P>M> N.Y., N.Y.
January 15, 1944
Dear Joan,
How’s my best gal? My only gal! I just got another letter from you. When I was given the envelope and saw the return address it gave me the biggest smile. I read it three times because it made me feel even closer to you. I’m awfully homesick, but I close my eyes and see your face and everything seems better. I think about you a lot; it helps me when I can remember familiar places and people I care about.
Until I joined the Army I’d never left the state of Washington. My mom and dad write me, too. My brother’s in the South Pacific and is seeing a lot of action. Sometimes I wish I’d joined the Marines instead of the Army because I’m eager to do my part to end this war. No one knows when the invasion’s going to happen. Soon, I hope. They have us training day and night. I’m getting to where I’m almost used to leaping out of an airplane. That sounds nuts, doesn’t it? My mother always said I was a daredevil. I guess she was right.
I’m glad you got the Christmas gift I mailed you. Sorry it arrived late. I hope that when Christmas rolls around this year I’ll be with you. I thought about that a lot when I heard Bing Crosby on the radio singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”
I don’t know what to say about Elaine. I feel bad that she’s causing you problems. I wish I could figure out what she objects to about me. Would it help if I wrote her a letter? I’ll do whatever you say—anything other than not have you as my girl.
I’ll write more when I can.
Hugs and kisses,
Jacob
Mack finished the letter and set it aside. He read the next two in quick succession.
“Aren’t these letters wonderful?” Mary Jo was watching his reaction avidly.
Mack had to agree. “Yeah, they are.” He reached for another.
Maj. Jacob Dennison
36354187 Hgs. Co.
Hgs. Cond. 1st
Service Platoon.
U.K. Base APO 413%P>M> N.Y., N.Y.
March 3, 1944
Dear Joan,
How’s my best gal? I got a day pass earlier in the week and went to London and ate fish and chips. They were the most delicious I ever tasted, and that’s saying something, since I was born and raised near Puget Sound. My dad loved to fish and my mom fried up the best trout you can imagine. This fish was different and they served it wrapped up in newspaper. I even took the train to Stratford and got to see one of Shakespeare’s plays. Did you ever see King Lear? I’m not much for that fancy language, but it was a good story and it broke up the monotony. Some of the guys got drunk and didn’t get back to base on time. Don’t get me wrong—I drank my share of brew, but I was smart enough not to overdo it.
Thank you for writing. I can’t tell you how much your letters mean to me. The instant I see 1022 Evergreen Place on the corner of the envelope, my spirits rise. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, Joan. You said it’s too soon for me to tell you that, but I know what I feel. It isn’t just being away from home like you suggested, either. This is real. You said you can’t really get to know a person through letters. I think you can. I feel as though I know you, and can you honestly say you don’t know me? When I get home, God willing, I’ll ask you properly, down on one knee, to be my wife.
I’ll write again tomorrow. Write me again, too. I’ll keep in touch as much as I can. It’s lights-out so I’ll sign off for now.
Hugs and kisses,
Jacob
Mary Jo leaned forward slightly. “Were you able to find out anything about the previous house owner?” she asked. “I want to learn whatever I can about Joan and Jacob.”
Mack had forgotten that he’d volunteered to check with “the landlord”—although it was hardly necessary, since he owned the duplex. He regretted now that he’d lied to Mary Jo about that. He knew she’d be upset at the low rent he was charging her if she realized he was her landlord. She’d feel he was patronizing her or maybe that he expected something in return. Mack suppressed a despairing sigh. He just kept digging himself a deeper hole. One of these days he’d have to tell her the truth—and he would, when the time felt right. Although he wasn’t quite sure how he’d recognize that moment of clarity…
“I did say I’d look into that, didn’t I? I apologize, but I haven’t got to it yet.”
“That’s okay,” she said, accepting his answer easily enough. “Ready to eat?”
He saw that the table was set, with the pot of stew and a plate of biscuits placed in the middle of the table, wine and water glasses by each plate.
“I fed Noelle before you got here,” she told him.
That was his cue to put the baby back in her seat and sit down at the table, which he did. Mary Jo was an excellent cook—as good as his mother, and that was a real compliment. Her own parents died when she was still in high school, and she’d taken over kitchen duties, more out of necessity than desire. Still, she seemed to enjoy cooking and took pride in putting together meals that were nutritious as well as appealing.
He was no slouch in the kitchen, if he did say so himself, but until she’d moved in next door, his meals had been haphazard affairs. Other than when it was his turn at the firehouse, he never really bothered with cooking. He usually relied on frozen microwave dinners or the various fast-food choices available in Cedar Cove. He didn’t make a habit of dropping by unannounced at his parents’, but whenever he did, his mother always insisted he stay for dinner. Mack didn’t often refuse.
“Hey, this is great,” he told Mary Jo after the first bite. And it was. Tender chunks of chicken, fresh vegetables that weren’t cooked to mush, lots of flavorful broth. The biscuits that accompanied it melted in his mouth. “A guy could get used to eating like this,” he said jovially.
Mary Jo didn’t comment.
Oh, boy, he’d done it again. Would he never learn? “I, uh, didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just wanted you to know the meal’s delicious…. I’m not suggesting anything else.”
Mary Jo carefully set her fork next to her plate. “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?” He swallowed before he’d finished chewing, and the biscuit nearly stuck in his throat.
“It’s still awkward between us, don’t you think?”
He nodded, grabbing his wineglass and gulping down a mouthful.
“You don’t need to work so hard, Mack.”
He frowned, unsure what she meant.
“We’re friends, right?”
“Friends,” he repeated.
“Good,” she said. She seemed satisfied. “Friends are comfortable with each other. We shouldn’t worry that what we say is going to be taken wrong or out of context.”
He coughed and nodded again.
“Then relax and enjoy yourself. Stop worrying that I’ll be offended, okay?” She sent him a dazzling smile.
“Okay,” he said. This comment was supposed to put him at ease, and yet her words had the opposite effect. Yes, they were friends, but Mack had hoped they would be so much more.
Two
It still felt strange, yet, oh, so wonderful, to wake up every morning with his wife beside him. Linc Wyse had grown accustomed to married life with a speed that astonished him. He’d been caught up in a w
hirlwind from the moment he met Lori Bellamy.
Less than two months ago, her car had broken down on the highway. Linc had been in Cedar Cove checking up on his stubborn little sister, who’d moved out of the family home and into a duplex next door to McAfee. The firefighter had delivered Noelle, and next thing Linc knew, the guy was her neighbor. He seemed to be over at Mary Jo’s far too often, and Linc considered it his responsibility—his duty—to make sure nothing untoward was going on. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation his sister had gotten herself into now. One man had already taken advantage of her, and Linc wasn’t letting that happen again. He didn’t care how many times Mary Jo told him to butt out and to stop interfering.
Lori made a faint, waking sound, then yawned and arched her back before snuggling into Linc’s arms. “Is it morning?” she asked, still groggy with sleep.
Linc kissed the top of her head. Mornings with Lori were the very best of his life. “So it seems.”
“I’ll make coffee.” She leaned over to turn off the clock radio, cutting off a traffic report in midsentence.
When she started to toss aside the covers, Linc stopped her. “No need to get up so soon, is there?” He nuzzled her neck and slipped his arm around her, bringing her closer. She was warm and soft and infinitely lovely.
“I didn’t think you were the sort of man who liked to linger in bed,” Lori teased as she slid her arms around his neck. Her breasts grazed his chest and he briefly closed his eyes at the sensation.
“I never used to be,” he murmured. “Until now.” She had no idea how true that was. As the oldest, Linc had held the family together after his parents died—the family and the business.
He was the first one at the car repair shop every morning and the last one to leave at night. All he’d done was work and worry. He worried about his family, about the business, about the economy. If there was something to lose sleep over, Linc was ready to take it on.
Then he’d met Lori.
His relationships with women had always soured and he’d never been able to figure out where he’d gone wrong. But it was definitely a pattern; he’d meet someone, things would be great for a while and then it was over. He didn’t understand it. Mary Jo claimed he was too “bossy” and “controlling” but she wasn’t exactly a relationship expert, so he ignored her opinion—and the cycle of ever-shorter romances had continued. But all of that changed the night he’d stopped to help when Lori’s car had broken down.
He’d nearly driven past. He’d already put in a long day and he was still annoyed by the heated argument he’d had with his sister. But he’d stopped, because if it was Mary Jo stranded there on the highway Linc would want someone like him to help. So he’d pulled over. Lori’s car had run out of gas and he’d taken her to a service station. They’d ended up having dinner together, and then spent hours talking during the next few days.
Linc had learned that Lori had recently come out of a broken engagement—to a man who’d gone to prison for theft. Not surprisingly, it had left her disillusioned. Linc knew the feeling well. She was an old-fashioned kind of woman who expected a man to behave honorably. He was an old-fashioned kind of guy who demanded honor from himself and others. On impulse, before they could talk themselves out of it, they decided to get married.
It was crazy. It was wonderful. Linc had never in his life felt this happy and carefree.
“Why are you smiling?” Lori asked, rising up on one elbow to study his face.
Just looking at his wife made his chest tighten. “I never in a million years thought I’d sleep in a canopy bed under pink sheets and be okay with it.” He paused. “More than okay.”
Now it was Lori’s turn to smile. “I told you it wouldn’t be so bad, didn’t I?”
“Not that I remember. What I recall is the promise you made when you lured me to your bed.”
“Lured you?” She raised her eyebrows. “As I recall, you hauled me into your arms, slammed my bedroom door and carried me across the room caveman-style.”
“Caveman? Please.”
“He-man, then.”
He-man, he could live with. “After that, I didn’t even notice the canopy, which was what you intended all along.”
“Do you mind it now?” she asked.
Linc shrugged. He’d lived with his brothers for so many years, he didn’t pay attention to all the froufrou stuff women had. Mary Jo probably had it, too, but she was his baby sister, so that was different.
Everything about Lori had his attention from the moment she’d stepped out of her car that first evening. And when she’d emerged from the bedroom in that black silk piece-of-nothing on their wedding night… The memory still excited him.
“I’ll make coffee,” she volunteered again when he didn’t respond.
“Not so soon,” he said, kissing her until they were both breathless. He watched as her eyes widened and she realized what he wanted. “Linc! I have to get ready for work!”
“You won’t be late,” he promised as he urged her onto her back and brought his mouth to hers.
Ah, yes, marriage had a lot to recommend it, and Linc was going to enjoy every minute.
A half hour later, having forgone coffee, Lori was rushing to get dressed when Linc stepped out of the shower. Her makeup—not that he felt she needed it—was done. She wore a business skirt and was pulling on a soft blue sweater. “What are you doing today?” she asked as she adjusted the neckline.
“I’m signing the closing papers on the garage.”
She looked surprised. “The deal went through already?”
Linc stood in the doorway to the tiny bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. “It sat empty for two years and the owner really wanted to sell.” Linc planned to open a branch of the family business, Wyse Men Auto and Body Shop—formerly Three Wyse Men—in Cedar Cove. His brothers were competent enough to handle everything in Seattle. By starting a second shop, he was giving them an opportunity to succeed on their own. Besides, one of the three needed to be close at hand to keep an eye on Mary Jo, although he had to admit that was more of an excuse than a reason. Linc liked living in Cedar Cove.
Okay, to be honest, he liked living with Lori.
“I only work until three this afternoon,” Lori said, moving about the room. She slipped her arms into a black jacket that didn’t match the skirt but looked good with it, then pinned a cameo to the lapel. Even Linc, most comfortable in a T-shirt and jeans, recognized that Lori had a real sense of style. He supposed it was why she worked in a high-end dress shop in Silverdale. She dabbled in designing, too, and knew how to sew.
“I’ll get groceries on the way home.” She brushed her hair, slung her purse over her shoulder and was about to leave.
Linc grabbed her hand. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”
A smile made her eyes sparkle mischievously. “No, kissing leads to other things and I’m already late.”
“One kiss,” he begged. “Please?”
“Linc,” she groaned, but then complied.
Her kiss left him weak in the knees. He had to clear his throat before he could speak again. “I’ll be back from the title company around four.”
“Great. I’ll pick up a bottle of wine so we can celebrate.”
“Good idea.”
“See you later,” she said, and kissed him again, letting her mouth linger over his. She was well aware of what she was doing to him, and he nearly staggered backward when she abruptly broke away.
“You’re an evil woman, Lori Wyse,” he called after her.
Linc headed out fifteen minutes after Lori. He had several stops to make, plus he needed to drive into Seattle and meet with his brothers about the business there. By the time he returned to Cedar Cove, he had to sign the papers for the garage. That all took longer than he’d expected and it was almost five when he’d finished.
Linc collected the keys to the garage and went home, hoping to pick up Lori and take her down to see the garage. He had a note
book filled with ideas on how to build the business. He wanted to tell her about them, and above all, he wanted to share this moment with her. They’d take the wine over to the property and toast there.
When Linc arrived home, he saw a black Town Car parked in the very spot where he normally left his truck. Even before he reached their apartment, he heard raised voices.
“Don’t say that, Daddy!” Lori cried. She sounded close to tears.
Oh, boy. Lori hadn’t told her family yet that they were married. Linc didn’t understand why she’d delayed, but the decision was hers. When he’d asked her about it, Linc could see how uncomfortable the subject made her, so he’d dropped it.
Now her father was upset, and frankly, Linc didn’t blame him. He’d do his best to set things straight.
Squaring his shoulders, Linc opened the door and walked into the living room. Lori stood next to the fireplace, her father—a balding, heavyset man—no more than a foot away. One of his hands was raised, as if he’d been wagging his finger at her. The other was clenched at his side. At Linc’s entrance, they both turned to stare at him.
“Hello,” Linc said, hoping he sounded calm and composed. “You must be Lori’s father. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bellamy.” He thrust out his hand, which the older man ignored.
Instead, Leonard Bellamy turned back to his daughter. “Is that the man?”
“Daddy, this is my husband, Lincoln Wyse. Linc…this is my father.”
Linc walked over to Lori’s side and placed his arm protectively around her shoulders.
Bellamy continued to ignore him. “You’ve pulled some stupid stunts in your life, but this takes the cake.”
“Mr. Bellamy, I realize—”
“If I want to hear from you, I’ll say so,” the older man shouted. “Don’t you have any sense, Lori Marie? You married this man and you don’t even know him? What about his family? Who are his people?”
“If you’d allow me—”
“You,” Leonard said, pointing an accusing finger at Linc, “mind your own business. This is between me and my daughter.”