Читать книгу It Had to Be You - Irene Hannon, Irene Hannon - Страница 10

“Earth to Maggie, earth to Maggie. Are you with me over there?”

Maggie abruptly returned to reality, blushing as she sent Philip, her lunch partner, an apologetic look. “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly.

“No problem. So what if you don’t find my company fascinating? Why should I be insulted?”

Maggie grinned at his good-natured teasing. “You’re a good sport, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. So what gives?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

“Maggie, I’ve known you for what…seven, eight years? In all that time I’ve never once seen you distracted. So I figure something’s happened—something pretty dramatic. Therefore, I repeat…what gives?”

Maggie looked down and played with her fork. She should have known she couldn’t hide her inner turmoil from Philip. He was way too perceptive. And maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to tell him about Jake. Philip had been a trusted friend and firm supporter for years. Without his encouragement, she might never have taken up serious painting again. Even now he had several of her pieces displayed in his gallery. He’d been a good sounding board through the years, too. A widower with two grown daughters, he’d offered her valuable advice about the girls on numerous occasions. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to run this situation by him, get his take on it.

“Okay, you win,” she capitulated. “Something pretty…dramatic…did happen today.”

He tilted his head and eyed her quizzically. “Well, I can’t say you look unhappy exactly. It must not be anything too terrible.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she murmured, shaking her head. She stirred her ice tea and took a deep breath. “You remember I mentioned once that years ago I was engaged?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Well…Jake—that was his name—he…he stayed at the inn last night”

Philip frowned. “You mean he came to see you?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said quickly. “He got caught in the fog and just happened to stop at our place. Allison checked him in. I didn’t even know he was there until this morning at breakfast, when the girls kept talking about this…this nice-looking man who’d checked in. It turned out to be Jake.”

Philip stared at her. “That must have been a terrible shock.”

Maggie gave a short, mirthless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. I’ve been off balance ever since it happened. Which is odd, since my relationship with him was over long ago. I can’t figure out why his reappearance has disturbed me so much.”

Philip studied her for a moment “It does seem strange,” he concurred. “After all, whatever you two shared is obviously history.”

“Right.”

“And it isn’t as if he even means anything to you anymore.”

“Right” This time there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“What was he doing here, anyway?”

“He’s interviewing for a job at the Maritime Academy.”

“You mean he might actually move up here?”

“Yes. And that makes me even more nervous. Which is ridiculous, because we’re really no more than strangers to each other now.”

“It’s probably just the shock of seeing him,” Philip reassured her. “Where has he lived all these years?”

“All over, I guess. He’s been in the navy. I think he still would be if it wasn’t for his father.” Maggie briefly explained the situation to Philip.

“Hmm” was his only cryptic comment when she finished.

Maggie tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m a little surprised. And impressed. Not many people would give up their career, start over, change their whole life to keep a promise basically made under duress. He sounds like a very honorable man.”

Maggie frowned. “Yes, he does,” she admitted. “And it’s so at odds with the image I’ve had of him all these years.”

“Well, people do change.”

“I suppose so,” she admitted reluctantly. “I just wish I didn’t feel so off balance.”

“Things will work out, Maggie,” he told her encouragingly. “They always do. You’ve successfully weathered a lot of storms though the years, and you’ll ride this one out, too. I know. And I’m always here if you need a sympathetic ear. Don’t forget that.” He touched her hand lightly and smiled, then switched gears. “In the meantime…when do I get a preview of the new painting?”

“Will next week be okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll reserve a spot right near the front for it You know, you have a large enough body of work now to consider your own show.”

Maggie grimaced. “I just don’t feel…well…good enough…to have an official show.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Besides, you’ll never know till you try. It’s not like you to back off from a challenge.”

“I know. But my painting is so…personal. If I got bad reviews it would be devastating. I’m not sure I’m ready to face that.”

“First of all, they wouldn’t be bad. And second of all, you can face anything, Maggie Fitzgerald. Because you are one of the strongest women I know.”

Maggie wanted to believe him. As recently as yesterday she might have. But a lot had happened since then. And at this particular moment, she didn’t feel very strong at all—thanks to one very unforgettable man named Jake West.

“Jake called twice. Will call again tomorrow.”

Maggie’s heart leapt to her throat as she read the note on the kitchen counter. She should have figured he’d call while she was out She hoped the girls had explained where she was. She didn’t want him to think she was trying to avoid him. It was just that she led a very busy life. Her days—and evenings—were filled. Like tonight. The zoning board meeting had run far later then she expected, because of some heated discussion. And she still had a few breakfast preparations to make, even if it was—she glanced at her watch and groaned—ten-thirty. There always seemed to be too much to do and not enough time.

As Maggie methodically set about assembling the egg and cheese casseroles that were tomorrow’s breakfast entrée, she reflected on the hectic pace of her life. For most people, simply running an inn and raising twins would be a full-time job. But she had made other commitments, as well. Like serving on the church council. And on the zoning board. Not to mention the watercolors she did for the greeting card company and, in recent years, pursuit of more serious art in her limited “spare” time. Why did she take so much on? she wondered with a frown. Could it be that she wanted to keep herself so busy that she had little time to dwell on the one thing that was lacking in her life?

With an impatient shake of her head, Maggie beat the eggs even harder. She didn’t usually waste time trying to analyze her life choices. If some of them were coping mechanisms, so be it. They worked, and that was all that mattered. Or they’d worked up until today, she amended. Jake’s reappearance had changed everything and, much to her surprise, rattled her badly.

But what surprised her even more was the fact that when she looked at him, it wasn’t the hurt she remembered, but the intense, heady joy of being in love. In some ways, it would almost be easier to remember the pain. Because that had no appeal But love—that was a different story. That had a whole lot of appeal. It was just that the opportunity had never come along again. And it wasn’t here now, she reminded herself brusquely as she slid the casseroles into the refrigerator. Jake had had his chance. She wasn’t about to give him another.

Abby looked up from her seat in a wicker chair on the porch and grinned as she saw Jake stride up the path.

“Did you come to see Aunt Maggie?” she asked eagerly, laying her book aside.

“Please don’t tell me I missed her again?” He’d been trying unsuccessfully for the past two days to reach her, and the frustration was evident in his voice. If every minute of his stay in Castine hadn’t been packed, he would have simply driven over and planted himself in her drawing room until she had time to talk to him. But he knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t leaving Blue Hill until he saw her again, even if that meant tracking her down wherever she might be now.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. She’s in the studio, Mr. West”

He felt the tension in his shoulders ease, and he smiled. “Call me Jake. And where’s the studio?”

“It’s the little room off the kitchen.”

“Would it be all right if I go back?”

“Sure. Aunt Maggie won’t mind,” Abby said breezily, ignoring the worried look that Allison sent her way as she stepped outside. “It’s just down the hall and through the door at the end.”

“Thanks.” Jake turned to find Allison in the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. West,” Allison greeted him.

Jake grinned at her. “No one’s called me ‘Mr.’ in years. Just Lieutenant. And both of those sound too formal now. So how about we just make it Jake?”

Allison smiled. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll see you ladies later.”

Allison watched him disappear, then turned to her sister with a worried frown. “Why did you send him back there?” she demanded urgently. “You know Aunt Maggie said never interrupt her when she’s painting, unless it’s an emergency.”

Abby gave her sister a condescending look. “Allison, Aunt Maggie’s love life is an emergency.”

Allison clamped her lips shut How could she argue with Abby—especially when her sister was right?

Maggie tilted her head and frowned. She wanted the seascape to convey restlessness, inner turbulence, the sense of impending fury. But she wasn’t quite there yet. Considering her firsthand knowledge of the ocean, and given that her own emotional state paralleled the scene she was trying to paint today, it ought to be easy to transfer those feelings to canvas. But the mood was eluding her, and that was frustrating.

A firm tap sounded on the door, and Maggie glanced toward it in annoyance. Why were the twins bothering her? They were old enough now to handle most of the so-called crises that occurred at the inn. But maybe there truly was an emergency of some kind, she thought In sudden alarm she reached for a rag to wipe her brush, psyching herself up to deal with whatever crisis awaited her. “Come in.”

The “crisis” that appeared when the door swung open was not one she was prepared for, however. What on earth was Jake doing here, in her private retreat? She stared at him in surprise as her heart kicked into double time. Try as she might, she couldn’t control the faint flush that crept onto her cheeks, or stop the sudden tremble that rippled over her hands.

Jake smiled engagingly. “Abby said I could come back. I hope you don’t mind. But I’m on my way back to Boston, and this was my last chance to see you before I left We didn’t seem to have much success connecting by phone.”

“Y-yes, I know.” Why did her voice sound so shaky? “Sorry about that I was at a zoning board meeting the first night you called, and running errands the other times.” That was better. Steadier and more in control.

“So the girls told me.” He propped one shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. “You continue to amaze me, Maggie. I don’t remember that you ever had any interest in politics or government, local or otherwise, and now you’re on the zoning board?”

She carefully set the brush down and reached for a different rag to wipe her hands on, using that as an excuse to escape his warm, disquieting gaze. “Well, I’m part of the business community of this town. It’s my home. I feel a certain sense of responsibility to do my part to make sure Blue Hill retains the qualities that attracted me in the first place.”

“Once again, I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. A lot of people do a whole lot more than me.”

He didn’t agree, but rather than debate the point, he strolled into the studio, his gaze assessing. It was a small room, illuminated by the light from a large picture window on one side. Unlike his image of the stereotypical messy artist’s studio, however, this one was neat and orderly. A couple of canvases in various stages of completion stood on easels, and several other finished works were stacked against one wall.

But what captured his attention most were the posters. Vienna. Florence. Rome. Paris. London. Athens. As his gaze moved from one to another, he realized that these were the places he and Maggie had planned to visit together. And he realized something else, as well. He’d seen most of them, while Maggie had been confined to rural Maine, coping with responsibilities that even now her slender shoulders seemed too fragile to bear. His dream of travel had become reality; hers had remained a dream.

He looked down at her slim form silhouetted against the window, the sun forming a halo around her hair, and his throat tightened. He wished with all his heart that he could take her to all the exotic places pictured on her walls. She would love them, he knew, would be as awed as he had been on his first visit But maybe…maybe she’d managed to see one or two, he thought hopefully.

He nodded toward the walls. “Nice posters,” he remarked casually. “Are any of them souvenirs?”

She gave him a wry smile and shook her head, dashing his hopes. “Hardly. B&B owners may cater to travelers, but they do very little traveling themselves. Especially with two girls to raise. I’ve stayed pretty close to home all these years. I expect you’ve made it to some, or all, of these spots, though.”

He nodded, trying to stem the surge of guilt that swept over him. “Yes.”

“Are they as wonderful as we…as people say?” she asked, the slightly wistful note in her voice producing an almost physical ache in his heart.

“Mmm-hmm.” He cleared his throat, but still the huskiness in his voice remained. “I’m sorry you never got to see them, Maggie.”