“You okay?” Buffalo Bob asked from the tavern side of the restaurant. “Merrily was worried when she remembered you were driving to the McKenna place today. We heard there was a tornado warning out there. You see anything?”

  Rather than launch into a long explanation, Linnette simply nodded. Doing her best to look composed, she walked past the men sitting at the bar and made her way to the stairs that led to the second floor. Dashing up the steps, she ran down the long hallway to the very rear of the building, where her room was situated.

  She threw herself on the bed, breathing hard, torn between relief at surviving and humiliation at her own disclosures.

  Thirty years from now, her experience in the tornado would be a wonderful story to relate to her grandchildren—if she had any. Naturally, Linnette would embellish it a bit, add some humor. At the moment, however, she could see nothing amusing in the circumstances. Nothing whatsoever.

  A few days went by, and the traumatic events of that morning were relegated to the back of her mind. She refused to linger on them. Every time she thought about the tornado and everything that followed, her face heated up as if she had a bad case of sunburn.

  Her parents had phoned, of course, after seeing images of the destruction on the TV news, and so had Maddy. She’d briefly described what had happened—without mentioning Pete. Everyone praised her clearheadedness and quick action, which made her cringe with guilt. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen Pete since that fateful day.

  Then on Sunday afternoon, while she was waiting tables by herself, he sauntered into 3 of a Kind. He saw her and inclined his head in recognition. Choosing a corner table, he pulled out a chair and placed his Stetson—obviously a new one—on the empty seat beside him.

  With no other alternative, Linnette brought him a menu and a glass of ice water.

  “Good to see you again,” Pete said, smiling up at her.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Linnette bit her tongue and nodded.

  “What did you find out about your car?” he asked as he opened his menu.

  “It’s a write-off,” she told him. There was major structural damage. One side was crushed when the car landed against a tree a few fields from where she’d stopped. Most of the glass was shattered and the damage to the frame was extensive. Although Linnette complained every month when she wrote out a hefty car insurance payment, she was grateful for it now. According to the adjuster, she had the go-ahead to order a new car.

  “I’m glad,” Pete said, glancing away from his menu. He chose the meat loaf and mashed potato special.

  “What about…your truck?” It seemed only polite to ask.

  He shrugged. “A few dents. I figure they add character.”

  She liked his attitude.

  “Just like a broken heart adds character to a person…”

  Glaring at him, Linnette jerked the menu out of his hands and stomped off to place his order. How dare he say that to her! Pete might have saved her life, but that didn’t give him permission to embarrass her.

  She’d never talk to him again, Linnette decided. Ever.

  Twenty-Five

  Jack had three steaks ready for the grill when Olivia got home from the courthouse Thursday afternoon. They rarely ate red meat anymore; however, they’d invited Will to dinner, and she knew her brother’s favorite was T-bone steak. Besides, she had a few questions for Will and she wanted him in a good mood when she asked them.

  No doubt Jack was pleased with the menu. Olivia kept a careful eye on her husband’s diet. After his heart attack, Jack had promised to abstain from fast food and late hours. He left the newspaper office as close to five as he could these days and often got home before she did, which was a real switch from the way things used to be.

  “Hi, Jack,” she greeted him, setting her purse on a small table in the hallway alcove, just as she did every night.

  “Out here,” Jack called. He had a Reba CD playing and the volume was loud enough to rattle the windows. She was surprised he’d heard her at all.

  Moving into the kitchen, Olivia found her husband preparing a salad. He’d arranged pale green Boston lettuce and baby spinach leaves in a large glass bowl, which sat on the kitchen counter, along with two ripe tomatoes and a cucumber fresh from her garden.

  “Do your talents never cease?” she teased, sliding her arms around his middle. She hadn’t realized how deeply she loved this man—who’d come into her life nearly twenty years after her divorce—until he’d almost died. Now she appreciated every day she had with him. Every minute.

  “I picked up a bottle of a new spray-on salad dressing,” he was saying. “There was a coupon in the Chronicle and I used it. I think we’ll like this one.”

  He handed her the bottle of Italian dressing and she glanced at the label with an appropriately enthusiastic comment. Who would’ve dreamed that Jack Griffin, editor of the Cedar Cove Chronicle and renowned junk-food fanatic, would care about low-fat salad dressing? Certainly not Olivia.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said with a laugh.

  “Well, actually, I was thinking I’d get you happy and then lure you into my den of iniquity.”

  “Den of iniquity? Den of books and stacks of paper is more like it.” Olivia loved the banter between them. “Anyway, after all this time you should know you don’t need gifts of salad dressing to get me into your arms.”

  Jack turned and enfolded her in his embrace, kissing the tip of her nose. “The things you say to me, woman, it’s a wonder I don’t seduce you right here on the kitchen floor.”

  “And let my brother find us?” she asked.

  Jack scowled. “Oh, yeah. I forgot for a minute—Will’s coming to dinner.”

  “Don’t forget, I need to talk to him….”

  “And you want me to conveniently disappear.”

  “If you don’t mind?” She sighed unhappily. “It’s just that this might get awkward.”

  “I’m happy to retreat to my den,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion.

  After a quick kiss, Olivia went into the bedroom to change while Jack finished making the salad. When she returned he’d poured two glasses of iced tea.

  As they waited for Will, they sat on the front porch, which overlooked the cove. The waters were a clear blue and, for September, surprisingly calm. Sitting side by side on the glider, they sipped their tea and enjoyed the quiet of early evening.

  “How was your day?” Olivia asked, grateful for these few minutes alone. Will’s arrival would transform this peaceful mood into one of tension.

  “I had lunch with Seth,” Jack said. “Ran into him at the deli. I had vegetable soup and a multigrain bagel with low-fat cream cheese,” he added righteously.

  “Well, I had lunch with Justine.” She smiled. Her daughter had been full of news about the sale of the waterfront land and their purchase of a commercial plot off Heron Avenue. Everything had come together so smoothly, Justine was convinced this was meant to be. She’d talked about collecting Charlotte’s special recipes. Justine planned to use them in the tearoom, which had pleased Charlotte no end. In fact, during their last conversation, Olivia had learned that her mother was finally writing down all her recipes. Although friends and family had been asking for ages, Justine had given her the inspiration she needed.

  “Seth told me the permits have been issued and construction on the tearoom should start in the next few weeks.”

  “Justine said the same thing.”

  They both paused to savor their tea. Olivia loved the serenity of early autumn. Summer had lingered in the Pacific Northwest, but soon the rains would come. The days would grow short and the bleakness of winter would begin to descend. At the end of the month, Jack would store the barbecue in the garage for the winter and put away the patio furniture. Hard to believe on a lovely night like this. Knowing how few such evenings remained made it even more special.

  “Seth said he’d decided to keep his job with the boat broker,” Jack told her.


  Olivia already knew this, and felt it was a wise decision. She said as much.

  “Oh?” Jack questioned. “Why’s that?”

  “He’s doing so well, and…” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose it would do any harm to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “Justine’s pregnant.”

  “That’s great!” He paused, frowning and obviously puzzled. “Seth didn’t say anything about that.”

  “He doesn’t know yet. Justine is telling him tonight.” Justine’s pregnancy was wonderful news to Olivia. Not so long ago, she’d begun to lose hope of ever having grandchildren and now, like Grace, she’d have four. Her youngest son, James, who was in the navy and lived in San Diego, had two children and soon Justine would, as well.

  After a few minutes, Jack kissed the side of her face. “You’re very quiet all of a sudden. Any particular reason?”

  Olivia finished her tea. “I was thinking about Jordan,” she said. The son who’d died the summer he was thirteen. More than twenty years had passed since his death, and hardly a day went by that she didn’t think about him. Her thoughts were especially poignant at times like this, when she learned she was about to become a grandmother again. What would’ve happened if Jordan had stayed home from the lake that day? It was a question that still haunted her, maybe even more so now that her children were adults. What kind of person would Jordan have been? Would he have a family now? How different would her own life be? Her ex-husband, Stan’s? Justine’s? Even James’s? They’d all been profoundly affected by Jordan’s death.

  “I can hardly imagine it,” he murmured.

  “A mother never forgets,” she said simply. The pain wasn’t as intense as it’d been during the first few years after Jordan’s death. Still, at special moments like today’s lunch with Justine, it was as if the loss had just occurred.

  A car rounded the bend and she recognized it as her brother’s. Jack saw the car, too. Standing, Jack and Olivia walked down the steps to greet their guest.

  Will joined them. “Thanks for the dinner invite,” he said, then kissed Olivia on the cheek and shook hands with Jack.

  “I should be the one thanking you,” Jack said. “I’m getting steak for the first time in a month of Sundays.”

  Olivia cast a disparaging look at her husband. “Ignore him.”

  While Jack got Will a glass of iced tea, Olivia led her brother onto the porch, where they sat on two of the wicker chairs that lined the wide veranda. She’d initially planned to have their conversation after dinner, but decided sooner was better. Jack brought out the tea, eyed Olivia and then excused himself, telling them he wanted to start the barbecue.

  “It’s nice here. Really peaceful,” Will commented, relaxing in his chair. He looked out over the Cove, where a pair of herons waded in the water, seeking dinner.

  “We love it.”

  Will nodded, then sipped his tea.

  Olivia plunged into the murky waters of her brother’s obsessive behavior. “Grace mentioned that you stopped by the library the other day.”

  Will didn’t respond right away. “I thought she might’ve said something,” he finally muttered.

  Olivia wanted to get to the point. Surely Will knew why she felt the need to talk to him. “You’re aware that she’s married, aren’t you?” she asked bluntly.

  “Of course.” Will sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t what you think, Liv. I made a fool of myself over her the last time I was in town. I regret that. The whole situation was unfortunate.”

  That was putting it mildly, although Olivia chose not to say so. Her brother had tried to provoke a fistfight with Cliff Harding, which was almost a joke. Cliff outweighed Will by at least fifty pounds and was in much better physical condition. The incident had mortified Grace, and Olivia had been outraged by her brother’s childish behavior.

  “Exactly why are you in Cedar Cove?” she demanded. “Because if it has anything to do with Grace, I’m telling you right now, neither Mom nor I will stand for it.”

  Her brother seemed about to argue, then appeared to change his mind. “I know stopping by the library wasn’t a good idea.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You’re my brother and I love you, but Grace has been my best friend my entire life and I will not allow you to interfere in her marriage.”

  “I know.” Will leaned forward and exhaled slowly. “I see now that inviting her to lunch wasn’t the best way to go about any of this. All I wanted to say was that I’m sorry for…well, for everything. I wish her happiness.”

  “You have to admit, moving to Cedar Cove looks pretty suspicious.”

  He shrugged uncomfortably. “I thought about it quite a bit, Olivia, but I really didn’t have anywhere else to go. I needed a change. God knows Georgia deserved a better husband, and it just seemed easier to start over someplace familiar. Mom’s here and you’re here. The two of you, plus your kids, are the only family I’ve got.”

  “You don’t intend to make any trouble for Grace?”

  “No,” he returned with such vehemence that Olivia felt she had to believe him.

  “What I’d like,” he continued, “is to buy a business or start my own, I haven’t decided which. Cedar Cove is home. I have the skills—and the cash—to make a contribution to this community.”

  “I’m glad.” Olivia wanted to trust that what he said was true.

  “Have you heard of anything that might be appropriate?” he asked.

  Olivia thought for a moment and then inspiration struck. “Oh, my goodness! This is perfect.”

  “What?” Will’s eyes widened with excitement.

  “The Harbor Street Art Gallery. I just found out it’s going to close. You’ve always had an interest in the arts.” He nodded eagerly at that, and she remembered how, years ago, he used to take very good photographs. He’d always bought paintings, too, supporting up-and-coming artists. “The gallery was doing well until Maryellen Bowman had to quit,” Olivia went on to explain. “The woman who replaced her just didn’t have the eye or the business savvy Maryellen does.”

  “Would I be able to hire Maryellen back?”

  “No, but you wouldn’t need to. You could manage it yourself. The community needs this art gallery and I really think you’re the right person.” The more she thought about it, the more Olivia warmed to the idea. “Talk to Maryellen. I’m sure she’d be willing to help you as much as she can. Keep in mind that she’s a new mother, so her time is limited. She’s also Grace’s daughter, but that shouldn’t matter—should it?”

  Will looked pleased, disregarding the comment about Grace. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning. I can get her number from you?”

  Olivia nodded. “She can give you the contact information for the owners, too.”

  “Great.”

  They smiled at each other in mutual understanding, and Olivia’s heart felt lightened.

  As if on cue, Jack reappeared. “The grill’s ready.”

  She and Will walked into the house.

  Jack took the three T-bone steaks out of the refrigerator. While they watched, he rubbed both sides with olive oil, a grilling trick he’d learned from an interview with a local chef. Collecting the silverware and plates, Will and Olivia followed him outside.

  The phone rang and for a moment, Olivia was tempted not to answer. At the last second, she hurried into the house and grabbed it.

  “Olivia, it’s your mother,” Charlotte announced.

  As if Olivia wouldn’t recognize her own mother’s voice.

  “Hello, Mom.”

  “I’m not interrupting your dinner, am I?”

  “No, no, not at all. What can I do for you?” From the way Charlotte spoke, Olivia could tell she was worried. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No,” Charlotte murmured. “I don’t think so, but…well, I felt I should say something. I don’t want to cause any problems or borrow trouble, but I think forewarned is forearmed, don’t you?”

  “Mom, what are you talking a
bout? Has anything happened?”

  “Well, not yet, but I wonder if you should speak to Grace and Cliff.”

  Olivia didn’t need any more information to figure it out. “This is about Will, isn’t it?” Little did her mother know that her brother was on their patio at that very moment, talking to Jack.

  “Will stopped by the other day and while he was here he saw a piece of mail on the kitchen counter. Although the envelope was addressed to Ben and me, Will didn’t hesitate to take the card out and read it. I suspect he noticed the name on the return address.” Her mother was getting upset now and her words were rushed.

  “Who was the card from?” Olivia asked calmly.

  “It wasn’t a card exactly. It was an invitation to Grace and Cliff’s wedding reception.”

  All at once, everything her brother had said came under suspicion. Olivia was no longer sure she could believe his assertions that he’d put the past behind him.

  “I told him how happy Grace and Cliff are,” Charlotte continued. “He just kept looking at the invitation and I’m afraid…well, if you must know, I’m afraid he was memorizing the details.”

  “Mother, do you seriously believe Will would come to the reception uninvited?”

  “Honestly, Olivia, I have no idea what to believe. I can’t imagine that any son of mine would be so forward or so rude, but then I don’t really know Will anymore.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t want Will to do anything that would embarrass Grace and Cliff. He’s made a pest of himself more than once.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” she said again. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Thank you, dear. I feel much better now.”

  While she had her mother on the phone, Olivia shared Justine’s news, which ended their conversation on a positive note. Before she hung up, Olivia confirmed that she’d handle the situation with Will.