Читать книгу Hart's Harbor - Deb Kastner - Страница 11

G racie arrived at the Safe Harbor Women’s League meeting Tuesday afternoon to a completely unexpected round of applause. She dropped into a graceful curtsy and then cocked her hands on her hips and looked around, carefully eyeing the handful of women, most of whom she’d known all her life.

“Thank you very much,” she said wryly, tapping her foot methodically against the floor. “Now tell me what the applause is for.”

“As if you didn’t know,” Wendy McGuire said with a laugh, smoothing a hand across her burgeoning pregnancy. “Talk is all around town about you and that hunky Dr. Kyle.”

“Me and Dr. Kyle what?” Gracie rasped, though she wasn’t entirely surprised by her friends’ reaction. There wasn’t enough going on in Safe Harbor to keep everyone really busy, so they grabbed at whatever they could for amusement. She was as guilty as anyone in this room about reaching for what seemed exciting news wherever she could find it. “Sorry to disappoint everyone, but Hart and I are just friends.”

There was an audible groan at the news, and Gracie chuckled loudly. “Do you gals want to try that one again in unison?” she teased.

“Does this mean you won’t be bidding on Kyle’s chocolate at the bachelor’s block auction next Saturday?” teased the newly wedded and extremely happy Annie Simmons-Mitchard.

“Assuming, that is, that I can get him up on the block at all,” Constance complained good-naturedly as she passed out miniature plastic pacifiers in pink and blue, each tied with a ribbon long enough to dangle around a woman’s neck like a necklace.

“Is he being stubborn?” one of the women called, hooting in displeasure.

Constance shrugged. “Kyle hasn’t said yes, yet, but don’t worry, ladies. I’ve made sure there are enough men up for auction this year. Everyone here will get their box of chocolate.”

There was a pleasant round of laughter and a few raucous comments. “Well, Gracie, is it chocolate for you or not this year?” Wendy prompted, returning to the subject Gracie had hoped was long forgotten. “Assuming Kyle takes the plunge.”

“I believe I can safely promise not to bid on Hart’s box of goodies,” Gracie assured everyone, holding up her right hand, palm open. “The playing field’s wide-open where that man’s concerned.”

“Never say never, sweetheart,” came the crackly old voice of the town’s postmistress and biggest gossip, Elizabeth Neal.

Gracie spotted her a catty grin, and the old woman cackled pleasantly. Elizabeth Neal, and Safe Harbor residents in general, would learn soon enough that she and Hart had nothing more in common than a working relationship.

No box of chocolates was going to tempt her, even if they were held by strapping biceps and accompanied by the tempestuous amber eyes and the alluring knockout smile of Dr. Kyle Hart.

“Isn’t this party supposed to be for Wendy?” she loudly reminded those present. After adding her gift to a large pile, she chose a spot beside Constance and took her seat with a sigh.

The lighthouse meeting room was appropriately decorated with pink and blue streamers, and a long table had been ornamented with a cow jumping over a bright sliver of a moon. Wendy was having her third baby, but the Women’s League insisted on throwing a baby shower for her, even so.

“Do you know if it’s a girl, Wendy?” It was Elizabeth who asked aloud the pointed question everyone was wondering in their heads. Robert and Wendy were the proud parents of two boisterous boys, ages six and four; soft, sweet and pink were all the keynotes on the Safe Harbor question list where the McGuires were concerned.

Wendy rested a hand on top of her abdomen and chuckled happily. “Robert and I have decided to keep it a secret until the birth.”

She held up her hands at the murmurs of protest that rose at her words. “I know, I know. You’d think by number three, we’d want to know, and the sooner, the better. But you know, there are too few real surprises in life, at least good ones.”

Gracie thought Wendy’s explanation sounded reasonable, and actually a bit romantic at the core. But she could tell by the groaning and variety of expressions around her that everyone in the room didn’t share her opinion on the matter.

“Do you have a feeling one way or the other, on whether it is a boy or girl?” Gracie asked, then unconsciously brushed her fingers over her own trim waist. “Not that I would have the slightest notion if such a thing were possible.”

“Well, I haven’t been dangling rings over my belly, if that’s what you mean.” There was general laughter over Wendy’s referral to the old wives’ tale of rocking and circling rings. “However, if I were to guess, I’d guess I’m carrying a boy.”

Constance groaned loudly, and Gracie elbowed the middle-aged woman playfully in the ribs.

“Well, how would you like to have all boys?” Constance whispered. “I only had one, and he was all I could keep up with.”

Unexplainably, a crystal-clear image of three adorable black-haired, amber-eyed ragtag boys wrestling with each other entered her head, and she smiled softly. “That might not be so bad.”

“I wouldn’t mind another boy,” Wendy said, and Gracie wondered if she’d heard Constance’s comments. “My little guys are the light of my life. Besides, it’s just a feeling. Robert thinks it’s a girl. The baby is a gift from God, whether a boy or a girl,” she reminded them softly.

“Of course,” Gracie agreed, darting a glance at Constance. “What matters is that the baby, boy or girl, is born healthy.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” agreed Wendy, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment.

The party quickly got under way, and the women played a couple of goofy baby shower games that Gracie would just as soon have skipped, but seemed to be perennial favorites of the old-timers.

They guessed the length of yarn needed to wrap around the mom-to-be’s waist. They matched famous mothers and children from history—Gracie won that one, and received a pretty crystal candle holder in the shape of a swan.

And then there was the one Gracie disliked the most—anyone caught saying the word baby lost the pacifier around her neck to the lucky woman who’d heard the word uttered. Gracie was far too much of a talker not to say the word baby at a baby shower, and it annoyed her to have to try. But she was a good sport, and since she could only lose her coveted pacifier necklace once, it didn’t stop her from talking up a storm.

Robert was supposed to be in charge of picking up the cake from the local bakery, but he had not yet arrived with it, so the ladies settled in to some good, old-fashioned gift opening.

“You handled that whole Dr. Kyle thing pretty cleanly,” Constance said, leaning in for a conspiratorial whisper.

“Hart? How’s that?”

“You know what I mean.” Constance nudged her playfully on the shoulder.

Gracie chuckled. “Yes, I guess I do. I’m glad they believed me, that Kyle and I are just friends.”

“Oh, no, sweetie, they don’t believe you. I don’t believe you. We’re just being polite and giving you rope to hang yourself.”

Gracie narrowed her eyes on her friend. Why did no one believe her? “Thank you very much for your encouragement.”

Constance giggled and pecked her on the cheek affectionately. “Don’t worry, hon. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Gracie nodded. “Let me know when, okay?” she commented wryly.

Constance smiled, but it slipped. Gracie saw her friend’s expression falter, reached for Constance’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Enough talking about me. How are you doing?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be panning advice. It’s not like I’m an expert.” She curled her hands in her lap, then glanced away, pretending to take interest in the gift Wendy was opening.

“You’re obviously better at this than I am,” Gracie pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. “No one said a single word about you and Nathan today. What’s your secret?”

Constance pinched her lips. “No one would dare. Seriously, I think people walk on eggshells when they’re around me. I walk on eggshells around me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Because?” Gracie prompted.

“Because—” Constance paused, her gaze darting around the room as if looking for an avenue of escape. Finally, she looked back to Gracie, her eyes bursting with panic, like a cornered animal. “I’m attracted to Nathan. From the soul.”

Constance’s confession made the air freeze in Gracie’s lungs. There was something in what she said that went beyond the mere romantic, a connectedness there that was almost spiritual in nature.

Gracie could feel it. For once in her life, she was speechless.

“Nathan reminds me so much of my Joseph,” Constance explained softly, her voice coarse with emotion. “That’s terrible to admit, I know, but it’s true. I don’t know if that’s why I’m attracted to him. I do know that’s why I shouldn’t be.”

The silence was deafening. Gracie could hear Wendy wadding up a piece of wrapping paper, and the sound was magnified in her ears until it was like roaring, until she wanted to cringe.

To have a love like Constance had had with Joseph, and for God to take that away, would be the most terrible thing she could imagine happening to a person. And now, to be tempted with a man who looked and acted like the man you had lost?

How could a woman handle that magnitude of pain? How could she stand to be alone?

“I’m waiting,” Constance said, the gleam back in her sapphire-blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be giving me advice.”

Gracie felt her jaw drop, and she found herself doing something she hadn’t done much of late—praying. Praying to God for guidance, for words of wisdom to give this dear friend. Because Gracie’s own words, her own realm of experience would be nowhere near enough. She didn’t have the words to say.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing. “I know what my eyes see,” Gracie said at last.

“And that is…”

“You like Nathan. The relationship you have with Chief Creasy is— Well, I’ll let you and Chief Creasy work that out. But don’t deny your heart, Constance.”

She took a breath and laid a comforting hand on her friend’s arm. “My head is all awhirl today with talk of bachelors and babies and one’s true love. But I do know this. God is in charge of it all. And even though it seems really confusing to you and me, He’s got it all going around the way He wants. And in the end, it all boils down to what’s in your heart.”

Tears glistened in Constance’s eyes, which shone like jewels against the pale skin of her cheeks. Gracie felt a new rush of emotion for her friend, and threw her arms around her in a big hug.

“Gracie, dear heart,” Constance said, hugging her back, “those are wise words for one so young. I do believe I’ll take you up on them. I’ve been sitting on the sidelines for too long.”

Gracie hardly thought she’d been sitting on any sidelines. Constance had not been the type of woman to tuck herself away and grieve for what she’d lost. She’d put her loss to good use, to helping others. She’d started foundations and charities, and even this Women’s League itself.

But Gracie supposed there was love.

“I’m terrified,” Constance continued, “but I know when I need to look a challenge in the eye. And I will. It’s you I’m wondering about.”

“Me?”

“I want you to promise me one thing, young lady, before you leave here today.”

“What’s that?” she asked, feeling at the moment like she could promise the world. It was the least she could do after seeing the bravery of her own friend.

“Promise me you’ll take your own advice. When the time comes for you to love, and it soon will be, don’t be afraid to follow your heart.”

“You’re scaring me.”

Constance merely grinned.

“Anyone for cake?” Gracie was surprised by the deep, familiar baritone. It wasn’t Robert McGuire brandishing the bakery cake. What in the world was Kyle Hart doing at a women’s meeting?

His gaze met hers as she stood and whirled away from where he was. Panic set in as her instinct told her to put as much distance between herself and the good doctor as possible. But Constance was trailing her, and she knew there wasn’t much chance of that.

“Robert needed to see a patient at the clinic and asked me to deliver it for him,” she heard him explain to the crowd. “I hope I’m not too late for the party. I couldn’t get away until now.”

“You’re right on time, Kyle,” Wendy assured him. “And you must stay and join us for a piece of cake.”

Constance grabbed Gracie by the arm and pulled her toward Kyle. Gracie dug her heels in, but it was no use fighting against her determined friend.

“Dr. Kyle! You’re looking particularly handsome this afternoon,” Constance crooned. “What a lovely suit you’re wearing.” She greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Kyle chuckled, but it was clear to Gracie that he was uncomfortable with Constance’s blatant perusal and adamant praise. He cleared his throat, then pulled at his collar and conspicuously loosened his tie. “Uh, thank you. I think.”

He cleared his throat. Again.

The man was shy!

Gracie’s eyebrows shot through her bangs. Who would have known?

Here he razzed her to death without the least care in the world, and yet when he was teased, he hemmed and hawed around with Constance like a regular retiring Southern gentleman.

Gracie couldn’t hold back her smile. Especially when Constance grabbed at the tie Kyle was loosening and made him turn all red in the face.

At least Kyle didn’t have Chelsea to contend with. She wasn’t much for spiritual things and didn’t think boring meetings with what she considered a bunch of old ladies were worth her time.

“The thing is, Dr. Kyle…” Constance pulled at the end of the silk tie, making it snug once again against Kyle’s neck. Gracie could see the muscles in his skin vibrate as he swallowed hard. “The thing is…this weekend is Memorial Day Weekend.”

Kyle nodded.

“You’ll be here.”

Kyle nodded again.

“And we’ll be here.” Constance leaned in for the kill. “And guess what? You’re going to have the wonderful privilege of helping out the underprivileged this weekend.”

“Don’t you just love her way with words?” Gracie quipped, holding back a laugh.

Kyle, of course, looked totally confounded, as well he should. Constance was leading him like a bull by the nose, and with good reason. The poor man didn’t stand a chance against her.

But even Constance couldn’t just go up to a man like Kyle and ask him to—

Well, it sounded pretty ludicrous, even to Gracie, and she’d been participating in the bachelor’s block since she’d been old enough to hold a box of chocolates in her hand or make a winning bid.

“It involves chocolate,” Constance was saying. “And charity.”

Kyle nodded politely. “I’m happy to help, ma’am,” he said with his cute little Texas drawl. “Just tell me what needs doing, and I’m on it.”

Gracie choked on a sip of punch. “Actually, hon, you are it.”

His gaze fixed sharply with her own. “I beg your pardon?”

“What Constance is trying in her roundabout way to say is that Uncle Sam wants you for the Memorial Day bachelor’s block auction, Monday morning at ten o’clock sharp at the gazebo in the park.”

“The what? For whom?” he sputtered. His jaw dropped, and he looked from woman to woman as if they’d both lost their minds.

Fortunately, she and Constance were both enjoying the moment far too much to take his looks seriously. His adorable confusion and muddled expression was worth a thousand words.

“Not Uncle Sam, precisely,” Constance clarified with a chuckle. “We’re making money for the Safe Harbor Family Practice Mercy Fund. For the poor in Safe Harbor who are without medical insurance. These are people, primarily women and children, who would go without medical aid were it not for this fund.”

“I know what the Mercy Fund is for,” he said dryly. “I work with these people on a daily basis. Robert and Gracie introduced me.”

“Good,” Constance said with a relieved smile. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping out.”

“What I mind is auctioning myself off like a piece of—meat,” he said with a groan, shoving his fingers through his hair. He winked at Gracie. “I’m just not that kind of man.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that,” Constance assured him. “Nothing sordid you’ll be ashamed to be a part of.”

“Is that so?” he drawled, sounding not at all convinced.

“Remember, Doctor, Safe Harbor is a small town. We’re dignified and fun-loving. All you have to do is to show up and bring a box of chocolates. We’ll auction you and the sweets off to the highest bidder, and you’ll spend the rest of the day escorting a nice young lady about town. Now how hard could that be?”

Kyle shot a look at Gracie that clearly conveyed what he really thought—the bachelor’s block sounded like sheer agony. But he shrugged and said, “Okay, I guess. For charity.”

“For charity,” Constance agreed merrily, planting another kiss on the young doctor’s cheek. “Don’t worry, you won’t be sorry.”

Constance immediately skipped off to speak to a nearby group of women, no doubt to plant another seed for charity. Gracie took another sip of her punch and watched Kyle over the top of her cup.

“I already am sorry,” Kyle murmured, taking a sip of his own drink.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry, you’ll live.”

“Does she do that to everyone?” he asked, gesturing toward Constance. “I’ve never felt so bulldogged in all my life.”

“Constance?” Gracie shrugged and nodded. “Pretty much. She’s really amazing. She’s a wonder with organizing things. She’s almost single-handedly turned this town around since she arrived over five years ago. She’s gotten us all involved in any number of charity projects.”

“Like bachelor auctions,” he said with a groan, sounding none too happy.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, every other year, it’s a bachelorette auction.”

His eyes lit up with interest. “Yeah? Does that mean next year I get to bid on you?”

Gracie’s eyes met his, which were filled with warmth and humor, and something else she couldn’t quite put a name to.

Silently, she asked him the question she was afraid to voice aloud.

Next year?