Читать книгу Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection - Debbie Macomber - Страница 28

Cecilia felt the joy, anticipation and excitement as Navy wives and families crowded the pier, awaiting their husbands and fathers. She had truly become one of those wives. She stood with Cathy, who was obviously pregnant now. They held on to each other, fearful of being separated in the large group. In some ways, Cathy was like the sister she’d never had. She hoped that the bond they’d built in the past months would continue for a lifetime. Her friend had taught her so much about courage and hope. Lessons Cecilia had carried with her ever since the accident on the John F. Reynolds.

“I think I see Andrew,” Cathy shouted.

Andrew Lackey stepped off the gangplank and peered expectantly around. Cathy shrieked and ran toward him, arms flung wide. Andrew caught her around the waist and half lifted her from the ground. As they kissed, Cathy threw her arms around her husband’s neck.

Feeling a bit awkward watching them, Cecilia looked away, hoping to catch sight of Ian. Her heart sank; he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Glancing back at her friend, Cecilia felt tears in her eyes as Andrew flattened his hand against Cathy’s belly. Standing where she was, Cecilia could feel his relief and his sheer happiness that this pregnancy was secure. The most dangerous months had passed, and although there were no guarantees, a miscarriage was far less likely now. The doctors were pleased with the way the pregnancy was progressing.

Then all at once Cecilia saw Ian. He paused at the top of the gangplank and scanned the crowd, searching for her.

“Ian!” she shouted and her arms shot into the air to attract his attention. “Here! I’m here.” She took off running toward her husband, ducking and weaving through the crowd, and literally flew into his embrace.

Cecilia had thought she was ready for this moment, but nothing could have prepared her for the wild burst of happiness. When Ian returned shortly after Allison’s burial, she hadn’t come to the base to meet him. At the time, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. But everything had changed, and now Ian was home and they were beginning a new life together.

“Oh, honey.” Her husband’s hands were in her hair and they kissed frantically, straining against each other, eager to give and receive, holding back nothing.

“Welcome home.” As long as her arms were around his neck, she didn’t care if her feet dangled inches off the ground. “How are your ribs?” she asked, afraid all this hugging might hurt him.

“They burn like hell, but I’d rather put up with the pain than not hold you.” He kissed her again. The passion between them was back, the way it had been at the start.

Tears welled in Cecilia’s eyes. She hadn’t expected to cry, but it felt so…so good to be with Ian. The months he’d been at sea had been a time of healing for them both.

“I love you so much,” she whispered over and over.

“I love you, too.”

Ian had proved it in more ways than she could count. She was grateful for his patience and his refusal to give up on her or their marriage. If it hadn’t been for his repeated attempts to resolve their differences, she was sure they would’ve been divorced by now. Neither Ian nor the judge had made divorce an easy option and Cecilia was truly thankful.

“I’ve made a decision,” she told him as they walked toward the car, their arms locked around each other. Now that he was home, any separation, even that of a few inches, seemed too much.

“I hope it involves living with you again,” he murmured.

“Yes, it does.” Actually Ian was in for a surprise. With Cathy’s help, she’d moved her husband’s things back into their small apartment. Some of his stuff was still on base, but everything he’d left with the Lackeys had been brought to their home.

“I want my wife with me.” He stared into her eyes.

“I want another baby, Ian.” There, she’d said it. The words came straight from her heart.

His steps faltered and he stopped abruptly. “I thought…you said…”

She knew he was confused and could hardly blame him. “You can thank Cathy and Andrew for my decision.” If her friend could face a third pregnancy with hope and a positive attitude, then Cecilia, too, could learn to let go of her pain and look toward the future.

“You’re sure? Because I’ve made up my mind to leave it entirely up to you. Don’t misunderstand me, I want a family, but it’s more important to me that you feel you can go through with another pregnancy.”

Cecilia leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed walking. “I’ve given this a lot of thought in the last few months. I’d like to continue with my schooling.”

“You should, Cecilia. You’re very intelligent, and you show real ability with numbers.”

“But I want a family, too. Our family. I’d like to wait a couple of years, though.”

“Whatever you decide.”

“I wish you’d been this agreeable a few months ago,” she teased, then changed her mind. He’d been stubborn, all right, but she’d been no less so.

“Someday soon I want to go back and visit that judge,” she continued.

“Why?”

“She had the courage to tell us to stay together. She didn’t say it in so many words, but that was her message. I want to thank her.”

“I do, too,” Ian said. And he gently kissed the top of her head.

The telephone woke Grace out of a sound sleep. Heart pounding, she jerked upright and automatically groped for the receiver.

“Yes?”

“It’s time,” her son-in-law said.

“Kelly’s in labor?” Grace was already out of bed, holding the telephone to her ear, turning on lights, looking for clothes. The digital clock-radio told her it was three-fifty.

“The contractions are five minutes apart, and we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“I’ll meet you there. Do you want me to call Maryellen?”

“Thanks. She’s the next name on the list.”

After throwing on a pair of sweats, phoning Maryellen and making herself a cup of instant coffee, Grace was ready to head out the door in less than fifteen minutes.

“Buttercup!” She called her dog, needing to let her out in the backyard before she left.

The golden retriever ambled slowly out of the bedroom, obviously not pleased to have her sleep interrupted. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she promised, and then because she was just so excited, she announced loudly, “I’m about to become a grandma!”

Maryellen was at the hospital’s birthing center by the time Grace arrived. They met in the waiting area. Paul’s mother, Margaret, was there with her camera and cross-stitch project.

“I’ve been through this before,” she explained, settling down in a chair and taking out skeins of embroidery thread in various colors.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Maryellen muttered, cradling a cup of convenience-store coffee in her hands. “I haven’t been up this early since drill team in high school.” That comment was followed by a huge yawn.

“Where’re Paul and Kelly?”

“Back there.” Maryellen waved absently toward a set of double doors.

Grace was approaching the nurses’ station to ask for news when Paul appeared. “Kelly’s getting checked now to see how far she’s dilated. She’s doing great.”

“How about you?” Grace asked.

Paul nodded excitedly. “I’m ready for this.”

“He thinks he is,” Paul’s mother teased.

“Your life is going to change forever,” Grace told him.

“Believe me, I know that. Kelly and I very much want this baby.”

Before he left, Grace hugged her son-in-law, grateful to Paul. He’d been a wonderful help in the months since Dan’s disappearance. Grace knew he’d given Kelly unwavering comfort and support, as well as commonsense advice; she herself had leaned on him many times when something around the house needed fixing. Not once had he complained. She’d gradually become stronger, braver, more determined to get on with her life, but she didn’t think Kelly felt that kind of resolve yet—or resignation.

“How do you think Kelly’s going to deal with Dad not being here?” Maryellen asked, as if reading Grace’s thoughts.

Grace couldn’t answer that. Kelly had clung to the hope that her father would reappear as soon as her baby was born, absolutely refusing to accept that he’d abandon her at this crucial time.

“He isn’t coming,” Maryellen whispered, leaning forward. “Dad’s not going to walk through that door and there isn’t going to be a joyous reunion, is there?”

“Probably not,” Grace agreed. “Kelly will deal with it in her own way. Right now, though, she has enough to think about.”

“You’re telling me,” Maryellen muttered.

Grace leaned back in the hard plastic chair and closed her eyes, fighting off the urge to sleep. A part of her wanted to be with Kelly, but she also recognized that this special time was reserved for Paul and she didn’t want to intrude. Maryellen, long-divorced, had shown no interest in motherhood, nor had she revealed any desire to marry again. Grace sometimes wondered if Maryellen had put her emotional life on hold while concentrating on her professional life. Grace’s only concern was that Maryellen have no regrets about the choices she was making.

At seven-thirty, Kelly was ready to deliver. Paul brought them that update and then dashed out of the waiting room at lightning speed. Maryellen, Grace and Margaret gathered in the hallway outside the delivery room. Not long afterward, their tension was broken by the cry of an infant.

Paul appeared a few minutes later. “It’s a boy,” came his jubilant shout. “A boy!”

Grace didn’t know Margaret Jordan very well, but all of a sudden Maryellen and Grace were hugging Paul’s mother as if she were their closest friend. Tears of joy crept down Grace’s cheeks.

“Mother,” Maryellen chided. “Just look at you.”

“I have a right,” she laughed, wiping the tears from her face. “I’m a grandmother!”

At nine that morning, while Kelly slept, Grace sat in the rocking chair with this precious new life cradled lovingly in her arms. “Welcome, little Tyler Daniel Jordan,” she whispered, rocking gently. The commotion had died down. Margaret had taken her pictures and returned home to her husband. Maryellen had gone into the art gallery, refusing to allow a little thing like becoming an aunt—and getting hardly any sleep—to keep her away. Grace, however, was in no hurry to leave.

“Mom,” Kelly whispered from her bed. Grace glanced up to find her daughter watching her. “He’s so perfect, isn’t he?”

“Precious child.” Grace kissed Tyler’s forehead.

“You don’t mind that we named him after Dad, do you?”

Grace assured her she didn’t. “I don’t know where your father is,” she told her, “and there are no guarantees I ever will, but I’m sure of one thing. He loves you and he’d be very proud to know that little Tyler is his namesake.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I believe that with all my heart.”

“Thank you, Mom,” her daughter whispered, then closed her eyes.

Grace continued to rock her grandson, holding this much-loved child close to her heart. Dan was gone. His leaving had torn a gaping hole in her life. She’d lived with her husband’s disappearance all these months, struggling to find answers, knowing that might never happen. But just now, holding this grandchild, she felt as though none of that mattered.

In confronting her doubts and fears, Grace had learned something vital. Everything she needed for happiness lay deep within herself. Her grandson, this perfect little boy, gave her the inspiration and courage to go on. She wished her husband well, wherever he was, and whoever he was with. Then, eyes closed, Grace released Dan, mentally and emotionally. She was ready to let go even without the answers.

It wasn’t easy, but Justine couldn’t leave things as they were between her and Seth. She hadn’t seen him since that horrible night when Warren had confronted him at D.D.’s on the Cove. Never in all her life had she been so humiliated. She supposed she should be grateful because that night had opened her eyes to what she’d become.

Seth was back in town, although Justine didn’t know for how long. Realizing she’d lose her courage if she thought about this too much, Justine went over to the marina.

Seth was busy working on his boat, stripping paint. He seemed oblivious to her. Her footsteps were heavy with shame and dread as she walked down the dock toward him. She stood in front of his slot. Not sure what to do with her hands, she tucked them in the hip pockets of her jeans.

“Hello, Seth.”

He stopped his work and slowly turned to face her. His mouth was set and tight. “Hello, Justine.”

He didn’t seem receptive to her presence. But then, he didn’t have any reason to be. “I imagine you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” she mumbled.

“Not particularly.”

She ignored his lack of welcome. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

“No problem, it’s forgotten.” He returned to his task, as if everything had already been said. He certainly wasn’t eager to talk with her, which made this even more difficult than it already was.

“Do I…disgust you?” she asked.

He paused, glancing in her direction. “What I think of you or Warren shouldn’t concern you.”

“It does because…because, dammit, Seth—oh, never mind.” She bolted and got maybe half a dozen steps down the dock when she stopped abruptly. She had the horrible feeling that if she walked away from Seth now, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

When she turned back, she was surprised to find he’d leapt onto the dock and was only a step or two behind her.

“You care what I think?” he demanded, his brow furrowed.

Her voice deserted her; she simply nodded.

“Fine, then hear me out.” Everything about him told her he was angry. His stance was confrontational, his fists clenched, his eyes narrow and hard. “You’re a fool if you marry Warren Saget, and I don’t suffer fools gladly.”

“I know.”

“You’re still going to marry him?”

“No,” she cried. “I broke it off with him that night.”

Seth’s head reared up. “You’re not seeing Warren anymore?”

“No.” She didn’t mention any of the things Warren had said and done to win her back, but there weren’t enough gifts in the world to accomplish that.

“I doubt he took the news sitting down.”

“He’s had trouble believing me, but he’ll accept my decision in time.” He wouldn’t have any choice.

“So what’s next?” Seth asked.

The answer was completely up to him, but Justine couldn’t tell him that, so she shrugged. A heartfelt shrug, conveying uncertainty…and hope.

“What did that mean?”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“That shrug.”

“I don’t know,” she said desperately. “I guess I’m just letting you know I’m here.”

He frowned. “Here?”

“You told me once that I should come to you when I broke it off with Warren—and well, I’m here.”

“I said that?”

“Close enough.”

“If you think I’m just going to—”

“Yes,” she interrupted.

“Then I’ve got news for—” He stopped. “What did you say?”

She squared her shoulders. “When? Just now? I said yes.”

“What was the question?”

“Well,” she said, exhaling slowly, “I didn’t quite give you time to ask, but what I said was yes. Meaning I’ll marry you.”

Her answer appeared to confuse him further. He stared at her for the longest moment and, still unsure of his reaction, Justine said nothing. He started toward her, then halted, then walked directly past her. He’d gone four or five feet before he turned back. “Are you coming or not?” he asked impatiently.

“Where are we going?”

“To get a marriage license.”

“Now?”

He smiled then, the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen. “I don’t believe in long engagements.”

Justine threw back her head and laughed. “As it happens, neither do I.”

The front door of 16 Lighthouse Road was open. Olivia sat out on the porch with her needlepoint in her lap, the portable phone at her side. The wicker rocking chair had been her mother’s and she loved spending summer evenings right here, enjoying the view and watching the sun set over the Olympics.

The phone rang, disturbing her solitude, and Olivia answered without giving it a chance to ring again.

“Mom, it’s me—Justine,” her daughter said. “Okay, listen. I have some news and I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, because—”

Olivia heard someone arguing with her in the background. “Justine?”

“Mom,” her daughter cut in, “I’m married.”

The needlepoint project fell off Olivia’s lap as she bolted upright. “Married?” So Warren had finally worn her down. “Congratulations,” she said, doing her best to sound enthusiastic. She’d always said that if her daughter chose to marry Warren Saget, she’d smile and welcome him to the family.

“Here, talk to Seth.”

“Seth?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that I married Seth Gunderson?”

For a moment, Olivia was too shocked to respond.

“Mrs. Lockhart, it’s Seth. I know you’re probably upset—”

“On the contrary, I couldn’t be more pleased. Where are you?”

“Reno.”

“Why Reno, for heaven’s sake?”

“I’ll let Justine explain.”

Her daughter got back on the phone. “Are you upset with us, Mom?”

“I’m surprised…but delighted.”

“Seth doesn’t believe in long engagements.”

“Nor in a long courtship, it appears.”

“No…what happened is this— We decided to get married and it just made sense that we get the license at the courthouse and have you or even Pastor Flemming marry us, but that would’ve taken three days.”

“That’s Washington State law,” Olivia reminded her.

“I know. It’s just that we didn’t have three days.”

This was getting more interesting by the minute. “And why not?”

“Seth has to be back in Alaska by Sunday night and he won’t be available for almost five weeks, and it was either now or wait.”

“And you didn’t want to do that?”

“I couldn’t, Mom! I just couldn’t. He didn’t want to wait, either. I know this is probably the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done, but I know marrying Seth is the right thing. I’m sure of it. Oh, Mom, I love him so much and please don’t be upset with us. We can have a second ceremony with you and Grandma and Dad later on, can’t we?”

“Of course. Oh, Justine, I’m so happy for you and Seth.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“You know I think the world of Seth.”

“Me, too. I have to go now. We’re phoning Seth’s father next. And then Dad. After that, we’ve only got about twenty hours before we have to drive back. I’m happy, Mom, happier than I’ve been in my entire life.” She paused. “Oh, would you call Grandma for me?”

Olivia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m happy for you, too,” she said again. “And of course I’ll call your grandmother.”

They ended the conversation, and Olivia walked inside in a daze. She went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed. She needed a few minutes to absorb what she’d just learned. Her daughter was married. To Seth Gunderson. Oh, this was wonderful, wonderful news!

Her first instinct was to phone Stan, but she decided against it. Justine would tell her father, and he’d call once he’d heard. So, both of their children had chosen to marry without either parent there. She wondered if that meant anything.

She phoned Charlotte, who wasn’t home; she left a message, saying simply, “Call me when you get in.”

Then she returned to her needlepoint project. Feet propped up on the porch railing, she continued her stitching, grinning every now and then. Who would’ve believed Justine would do something so spontaneous?

When a battered blue Taurus parked in front of the house, she strained to see if it was who she thought. It was.

Jack climbed out of his vehicle and stood on the sidewalk, watching her nervously. Did he expect her to walk inside and bolt the door? Or to offer him an invitation? She did neither.

He walked to the bottom of the steps. “Hello, Olivia.”

“Beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?” She was cordial, but not excessively so.

“Very.”

“What can I do for you?” She didn’t think this was a social call.

“Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead.”

Since there was only the one chair, which she occupied, he climbed the stairs and sat on the top step. “Are you still angry with me about that dinner date?”

Men! He seemed incapable of understanding a concept like mutual trust and respect. “No.” A one-word reply should satisfy him, without leading into a dead-end conversation.

“But you’re still unwilling to go out with me?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She hated to admit how much she missed his company. Maybe she’d been expecting too much, but she couldn’t tolerate the fact that he’d created secrets between them.

“That’s what I thought.” He looked out over the Cove, its sparkling, distant water tinged by the pink of a slowly setting sun.

“I moved to Cedar Cove to start a new life,” Jack told her. “But the past has a way of catching up with people, doesn’t it?”

Olivia nodded; she saw the evidence of that every day.

“Bob’s advice is that I simply tell you—that I should have months ago. But I was afraid if you knew, you wouldn’t want anything more to do with me.”

“More secrets, Jack?”

“No, just the reason I couldn’t go to dinner with you.”

“It isn’t necessary, Jack.” He’d made his decision and so had she, although she had to confess to being curious.

“I think it is,” he countered. “If you and I are to continue, at any rate, and I want that very much.”

“I have this thing about secrets. I detest them.” She realized that a lot of her feelings were tied to her long-dead marriage. Stan had been unfaithful before the divorce, if not physically then emotionally. After the crisis of Jordan’s death, it’d been another woman who’d helped Stan deal with the loss. Another woman he’d confided in.

“I’m a recovering alcoholic, Olivia.”

“But…” She paused, certain she’d recently seen him with a drink in his hand. No, she thought. That was at Willcox House, and he’d had sparkling water while she’d had wine. He’d said it was because he had to drive….

“The reason I couldn’t go to dinner with you was because I had an AA meeting to attend. I have ten years of sobriety. It’s been ten long years but not a day goes by that I don’t think about booze. I’m one beer away from destroying everything.”

It took a lot of courage to tell the truth. Olivia rose from her rocking chair and sat on the porch step beside Jack and reached for his hand.

He wrapped his fingers around hers. “I’ve stood before a lot of judges in my time, but I’ve never dated one,” he said. “The truth is, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about seeing me once you knew.”

“Actually, it explains a great deal.”

“How so?” he asked.

“Well…I figured there had to be a logical explanation for why you don’t like Barry Manilow.”

Jack chuckled. “Are you saying only a drunk wouldn’t appreciate him?”

Olivia threw back her head and laughed.

“My mind was pickled for twenty years, but thankfully I’ve managed to keep my sense of humor.”

“Good thing. You’re going to need it living here in Cedar Cove.”

Jack raised her hand to his lips. “Friends?”

“The very best kind.”

“Lovers?”

“Don’t press your luck.”

He sighed. “I’m free tonight for that dinner, if you’re so inclined.”

“As it happens, I do have a reason to celebrate. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“I don’t want to disturb the sunset. Oh, Jack, isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” he whispered, slipping his arm around her, bringing her close to his side.

As the sun set over Cedar Cove, Olivia rested her head on Jack’s shoulder. This had been a good summer. Both her children were married now, and James was a father. Justine sounded genuinely happy. Her mother’s health continued to be good. Her dearest friend had suffered a blow, but Grace had accepted what she couldn’t change; she was refashioning her life, and Olivia was proud of her.

And Olivia herself… Olivia was with Jack, and their relationship was secure. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but she couldn’t help feeling it was positive.

The sun sank below the Olympic Mountains. Its deep pink glow fell across the water and spilled onto 16 Lighthouse Road. It crept through the town of Cedar Cove and gently touched the house at 204 Rosewood Lane. Grace Sherman looked out her window and smiled.