Читать книгу His Winter Rose - Lois Richer - Страница 12

“I’m glad you asked me to join you tonight. I’ve never met Ida Cranbrook. At least, I don’t think I have. I’m sure she wasn’t around when I lived here before.”

“She and Harold have only been here a little longer than me.”

Piper climbed from Jason’s truck and walked toward a cottage that looked like Hansel and Gretel’s gingerbread house. She sniffed the air.

“Oh, that aroma is marvelous. I love ribs.”

“You’ll like them even more after you taste Ida’s. She has this secret recipe. Every year more and more people try to copy it.”

“Maybe I could wheedle it from her for the good of the town. You know, ‘Come to Serenity Bay and sample Ida’s ribs.’ Something like that.” Piper smiled at Jason, liking the way his hair flopped across his forehead. He was so different from the corporate stiffs she usually worked with.

“Nobody has managed to get it out of her yet, so you’d have a coup if you did.” His fingers grazed her elbow as he directed her up the two steps to the front door.

“Hmm. I’ll try hard, then.”

“Ida’s also the sounding board for the entire community. She knows everything about everything. What she doesn’t know, she’ll find out.”

“Ah, an unimpeachable source. Good.”

He laughed, rapped the door twice, then opened it.

“We’re here,” he announced in a loud voice, then motioned for Piper to precede him inside.

A man emerged from the room beyond, ducking his head to walk beneath the low, exposed beams.

“Don’t call her,” he murmured, shaking his head as he beckoned them inside. “She’s at the crucial stage.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t know, exactly, but she says it’s crucial.” He held out his hand, smiled at Piper. “I’m Harold Cranbrook, Ida’s husband. And you’re the lady who’s going to put the Bay on the map. Come on in.”

“Piper Langley.” She shook his hand. “And I hope you’re right.”

“Jason hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”

As far as she could tell, everybody liked Jason. That would make it easier to work for him. She hoped.

Piper glanced around. It was like walking into a doll’s house. Everything seemed so tiny. How did a man as large as Harold endure living among all this china, crystal and dolls?

“Ida’s out on the deck. Is it too chilly for us to join her?”

“Let’s do,” Piper agreed, relieved they’d be away from the fragile objects, at least for a little while. She eased left, leaving a wide gap between her leg and the tiny, blue china ladies perched atop a table, then blushed when Jason winked at her and followed suit on tiptoe.

“Hey there! I didn’t hear you arrive. Come on out.” Ida slid open the patio door, then wrapped her tiny arms around Jason in a hug. She did the same to Piper. “I’m glad you could come, Miss Langley. Welcome to Serenity Bay.”

“Thank you. It was sweet of you to invite me.”

“Jason told me you used to live here. We only moved here two and a half years ago, so I didn’t know your grandparents, but I’ve heard a lot about Sara and Gordon Young from the old-timers on the Bay.” She basted the ribs, pushed a fork against the meat, then shook her head and closed the lid. “People used to talk about how he’d sail her around the coves in that cute little sailboat. What’s it called—Shalimar, that’s it. Such an unusual name.” Ida glanced at Jason, raised one eyebrow.

“Papa said it sounded like a faraway place you’d escape to. That’s why he chose it.” Piper noticed some kind of under-current running between the mayor and his office helper. She decided to wait and see what it was about.

“Piper uses Shalimar to get to work.” Jason’s gaze remained on the sizzling barbecue.

“Only when it’s good weather,” she said.

“Like today. I heard you’ve been talking to the guild.” Ida glanced at Jason as if she knew something. “So has Piper given you her report yet?”

“What report?” Piper glanced back and forth, even checked Harold’s expression. “Did I miss something?”

“Jason here is a bit obsessive when it comes to business in the Bay. Scratch that. He’s a lot obsessive. Not that he doesn’t have a good reason. Betrayal by your best friend is never nice.” Ida patted his shoulder as if he were six. “If my hunch is right, and it is, he’ll want to know exactly what you did this afternoon.”

“But he already knows. I told him my plans this morning.” Piper accepted a seat on a wicker chair, then glanced at Jason. He was frowning at Ida. Piper didn’t blame him. Being betrayed by your best friend sounded horrible.

Maybe that’s why he’d come to Serenity Bay, to prove to the powers at Expectations that he could handle more than one aspect of development. Maybe he hoped his work here would push him up their career ladder faster. Please, not another Baron.

“I am not obsessive.”

“Ha!” The tiny woman sat down, crossed her arms over her thin chest. “You like to pretend you aren’t, but you’re totally obsessed by the Bay’s future.” She looked at Piper. “Controlling, too.”

“Stop badgering the boy, Ida. We elected him to be concerned about Serenity Bay. I’d say he’s doing his job perfectly.” Harold turned to Piper, lowering his voice. “They’re like two five-year-olds in a school yard. Best to change the subject. You got a boyfriend?”

Piper gulped. What ribs could be worth this?

“Don’t answer that. Harold fancies himself a matchmaker. You give him the least bit of information and he’ll go hunting up a beau for you.” Ida poked Jason’s leg. “You read those test results?

“What tests? I go to the boat show in Toronto for two days and you’ve got people doing tests?”

“I do my job,” the older woman sniffed. “Public health said we had to have a water check. I got it done. No problem there.”

“Good.”

Ida stood and peeked under the barbecue lid, adjusted the heat.

“Ribs need a few more minutes,” she explained. She wiped her hands on a towel hanging on the front of the barbecue. “Water’s okay, but we do have a problem with some of the campsite facilities. He’s going to let you know.”

“Fine.” Jason switched subjects, but he didn’t meet her stare. “Piper thought someone was working up on Lookout Point. Know anything about that, Ida?”

“Nope. But the telephone people visit it in the spring and the fall. Could be them.” She turned to Piper. “What was Serenity Bay like when you used to come here?”

“Pretty much the same. Maybe there were a few more people but then I was mostly here in the summer. In the winter Gran and Papa went to Florida but only after we celebrated Christmas together at Cathcart House.” She didn’t want to talk about the past. “About the summer people—do you know the kind of radius you’re drawing from?”

“We’ve done some surveys.” Ida prattled on about the city dwellers who came north to get away.

“Would you be able to get me a list with addresses? I’d like to get an idea of our current market.”

“Sure.” Ida shrugged as if it wasn’t important. “I’m in Tuesday.”

“Do you always take Mondays off?”

“Unless there’s something pressing. The town hasn’t got enough money for full-time office staff in the winter.” Ida plunked down on one of the patio chairs. “I’ll start working full-time after Easter.”

“Is there any new industry in the area?” she asked, looking for something to hang her plans on. “There used to be a sawmill—”

“It’s been closed for years.” Harold pulled out a map. “I heard that years ago some folks found a nice vein of copper up past the mill road—about there,” he said, pointing. “Purest ever seen, according to the stories. Shone in the sun as if it had been molded into those rocks forever. People used to stop by, take little pieces of it. Few years of that and it was gone, too.” He shrugged. “But it brought the place a minute or two of fame.”

While he’d been speaking, Ida had hurried away. She now returned with a platter and scooped the ribs off the barbecue onto it and handed it to Harold.

“Time to eat,” she announced.

Piper followed Ida to the dining room, where a long buffet table, six chairs and a huge black table were set.

“Piper, you sit there. Jason can sit across from you and Harold and I will hold down the ends. Good. Now, grace, Harold.”

Harold gave thanks, then picked up one of the plates stacked in front of him and began to load it with ribs, creamy mashed potatoes and bright green peas.

“Oh, my!” Piper gaped when he placed it in front of her. “It looks delicious, but it’s way too much. Perhaps you can make me a smaller plate.”

“Nonsense! You get started on Ida’s ribs, you won’t stop.”

Piper looked at Jason while searching her brain for some way to make them understand that she would never be able to eat what she’d been served. But Jason was busy eyeing his own heaping plate and spared her only a quick grin as he picked up a rib.

“Try them first,” he advised, then bit into the succulent meat.

Since everyone else had begun to eat, Piper followed their lead. She picked up the smallest piece between two fingers and nibbled at the end. The spices hit her tongue like those candy Pop Rocks she and her friends used to buy for a quarter and leave on their tongues while the flavors fizzled and hissed.

Only better. Much, much better.

Silence reigned as the four of them enjoyed their meals. Piper waited until Ida had coaxed everyone into seconds before she asked her, “Have you noticed anyone looking around the town recently?”

“Oh, we get Looky Lou’s all the time. Never amounts to a thing. Funny fellow with big glasses was in the office when Jason was away. Biggest brown eyes I ever saw. Wanted to know about the beach. It’s sand. What more could I say?” She croaked a laugh at her own joke.

So Wainwright Inc. had sent someone to check things out. It was strange Dylan was doing on-site research these days.

Piper realized Jason’s blue eyes were on her. A smear of sauce dotted his cheek.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Not really. I just wondered if a corporation was already interested. I didn’t see a hotel in town—”

“Exactly what I’ve been telling the council,” Jason exclaimed. “The no-tell motel is hardly the kind of place we want to showcase, though it’s clean enough. But Bart doesn’t think there’s any point in painting or modernizing the place, especially since business has been so slow. If he heard he’d have some competition, I imagine he’d sink some cash into his outfit pronto.”

“So nobody’s talked to you about building a hotel?” Piper had hoped for nonchalance but knew it hadn’t quite come off when Jason’s curious stare stayed on her. He couldn’t know why she was asking, could he?

“To me personally? No.” He turned toward the older woman. “Ida, you didn’t get the name of this man, did you?”

Ida set down her fork, her forehead wrinkled.

“He gave one. I just don’t remember what it was. Young fellow, really friendly. I might have written it down. I’ll check on Tuesday.” Her scrutiny shifted to Piper, grew more intense. “Why are you so interested in this guy?” she asked.

“If he was scouting locations, I’d like to talk to him,” she ad-libbed. “Maybe the town can dangle a carrot that would encourage someone to build.”

“We don’t have much to dangle,” Ida mumbled, her face skeptical. She forgot the subject they’d been discussing, until later when Piper was drying dishes beside her.

“You know who was here snooping around don’t you?”

“I could guess. I have a few feelers out with friends who suggested a company but I’ll have to do more checking.” She kept her attention on the glass she was drying.

“He kept asking about bylaws to do with the beach. You think someone wants to put a hotel right on it—like in Hawaii?” Ida swished the suds down the drain, then hung her dishcloth over the sink. “That might not be a bad idea.”

Piper set down the last dry dish, searching for a way to express her concern.

“It could work, with a lot of input from the town council. But we don’t want such a beautiful beach to be ruined.”

“By pollution, you mean?” Ida shrugged. “I’m sure the government has lots of laws to control that sort of thing.”

“Not just pollution. The wholesome atmosphere of the town has to be protected if we want to attract families. We don’t want a bar near little kids playing in the sand.”

“Goes without saying.” Apparently her explanation satisfied Ida, who then busied herself filling the coffee decanter with water. “Stays light longer now. Would you like to join us outside and watch the stars come out?”

“They are beautiful, but don’t make any coffee for me. Thanks, Ida. I have to be going. I sailed over and I need to get back before dark.”

“Harold and I probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee before bed, anyway. Harold always dreams.” Ida pulled open the fridge and took out a jug of red juice. “Can I interest you in some cranberry juice? Made it myself.”

“Could I try it another time?” Piper glanced at her watch, unwilling to believe the time on the kitchen clock was correct.

“You’re welcome anytime. Bring Jason with you. He says he likes his own cooking, but he doesn’t cook much. Gets most of his nourishment from those cinnamon buns he buys at the farmers’ market. I try to fatten him up.”

If Piper was any judge, the fattening up would take a while. Jason Franklin didn’t have a spare ounce on him. Rather, he had a polished, muscular look that made her think of a jaguar. From the state of his sneakers, she suspected he jogged to stay in shape. No wonder he could eat cinnamon buns whenever he wanted.

“Thank you very much for dinner. It was so delicious, I won’t have to think about another meal for days. And if you ever want to let me in on your secret rib recipe…” Piper let the sentence trail away when Ida shook her head firmly.

“Can’t do that, but you’re welcome to share them anytime.”

“Thank you. And you and Harold are always welcome at Cathcart House.”

The dock was only a few minutes’ walk from Ida’s, but Jason insisted on driving Piper.

“I would have walked here with you, but I wanted to drop off Harold’s motor.” He hoisted the machine out of his truck bed and stood it against the workshop where Ida’s husband waited beside the birdhouses he’d carved from driftwood.

They thanked the couple for the meal, wishing them good-night before riding back to the marina. Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Piper couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Are you going to be able to get back safely?” Jason asked as he unfastened her boat from its moorings.

The evening had grown cool and Piper tugged her coat from its hiding place in the hatch of the sailboat. “Oh, yes. I’ll be fine.”

Jason scanned the sky.

“There’s a storm blowing in,” he told her. “You could get swamped.”

She tried to explain that she’d been sailing many times, and had handled her fair share of rough weather, but he refused to listen.

“I’ll tie your boat behind mine. I’ve got an inboard that can weather anything. It won’t take long to zip across the lake. Besides, I’ll feel a whole lot better if I know for certain that you’re home, dry and safe. The lake water is too cold to capsize in.”

She couldn’t talk him out of it, and so a few moments later Piper found herself seated beside him in his boat, watching the familiar coastline fly past. Truthfully she enjoyed the feeling of knowing someone cared. It had been a long time. Another thing she’d prayed about and it was still unanswered. Did God want her to remain single?

Jason asked her questions about her meeting with the guild and she told him some of what she’d learned and how she intended to use it.

He was obsessive, about the town at least. Well, maybe she could use that to her advantage.

They arrived in her little cove twenty minutes later, just as the last flicker of light sank behind the jagged cliffs of Paradise Peak. As she peered up through the gloom, Piper could see little of the familiar landmarks because the dock lights hadn’t come on.

“Will you come up for some coffee?” she invited, once her sailboat was secured.

“Only if you make it hot chocolate,” Jason said. “After Ida’s high-octane sauce, my stomach will go into convulsions if I add coffee.”

“Sure.” Funny that his agreement brought such a flush of relief. She’d never worried about coming back late before. Piper led him off the dock and up the path to her home.

“You need some automatic lights. With all the clouds, it’s quite dark along here. The trees keep out the moonlight.”

She was suddenly aware of why she’d felt so uneasy. It wasn’t just the dock lights that were out. There were no lights along here, either.

His hand grazed her shoulder.

“Piper? What’s wrong?”

“I do have lights.” She looked up, pointed. “There’s one.”

“Well, it’s not working.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I’d noticed. Thanks.”

He grinned, then glanced around. “Looks like they’re all out. What do you suppose happened to them?”

“I have no idea. Fortunately, I’m very familiar with this path.” She turned and began striding along, confidence growing with each step she took. The next moment she was on her knees. “Ow!”

What was the willow chair her grandmother had always kept on the porch doing here?

“Whoa!” He was there, grasping her arm, helping her stand, his grip strong, reassuring. “What happened?”

“My pride just took a beating.” She brushed her palms against her legs, feeling the prick of pebbles that had dug into her skin.

“Maybe I should lead.” He lifted the chair out of the way.

“You’ve been here before?” she asked, staring at him.

“Good point. You lead, I’ll follow. Just go a little slower, okay?”

“Right.” Embarrassed, she picked her way up the path, her mind busy with the light question. “Maybe a breaker’s flipped or something.”

“Maybe.”

When she stumbled again, he took her hand, his warm, strong fingers threading through hers. “Let’s just go slowly, make sure we don’t happen over anything else.”

At that moment the moon slipped out from between two black clouds and provided just enough light for her to see a shape move through the brush.

“Do you see him?” she whispered.

“Who?” He glanced at her. “I can’t really see anything.”

Then moonlight was gone. So was the shadow. Maybe she’d imagined it. Piper shook her head.

“Never mind. It’s not far to the house now. This leads to the garden. Once we’re past these roses, we take two steps up onto the deck.” Her eyes were adjusting now, discerning familiar landmarks. “See? There’s the arch into the garden.”

He probably didn’t need her directing him, but she did it anyway until finally they stood before her door.

“Now if I can just get the key inside.” She slid it into the lock and twisted, unlocking the door and pushing it open. With one flick of her wrist the house entry and deck were illuminated. “Come on in.”

She turned on lights as she walked into the house. Thank goodness she’d cleaned up the kitchen this morning.

“So all the power’s not out. Just those lights.” He raised one eyebrow. “Where’s the breaker box? I’ll check it, if you want.”

“Thanks.” Piper showed him the panel in the basement, then left him, intending to return to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Halfway up the basement stairs she stopped, taking a second look.

The old wicker furniture her grandparents had replaced several years ago still sat down here because Piper had hopes of locating someone who would recane the seats and backs. But the furniture had recently been moved, and not by her.

Someone had been in her house.

“The breaker was off, all right.” Jason slapped the metal door closed. “If you’ve got a timer, you’ll have to reset.” He stopped speaking, looked at her more closely. “Something else isn’t right?”

“I’m not sure.” She went back down the stairs, stepped between the two love seats and stared at the thick wooden door she always kept locked. When she tried to open it, the dead bolt held, but she could see faint marks on the wood where it looked as if someone had pried a screwdriver. Had it been done tonight?

“Where does that door lead to? A secret tunnel?”

“Kind of. I told you my grandfather was a goldsmith, didn’t I? Well, he kept a workshop here after he retired.” She saw the interest flare in his eyes and hurried on. “I’ve been catching up on what he taught me. Because of the chemicals we use, he always insisted his work area be kept hidden and locked up. I’m the same way.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It is.” Piper didn’t want to say any more right now. She wanted to think about whether someone could have gone through her house, and why. “Thanks for fixing the breaker. It’ll be nice to have lights again.”

“Yes.” He kept looking at her, though he said nothing more. He didn’t have to; that stare sent a funny kind of zing up her spine.

“Let’s go have that hot chocolate,” she murmured, tearing her gaze away.

“Sure.”

Jason followed her up the stairs to the kitchen and perched on one of the breakfast stools, watching as she put the ingredients together.

“Are you telling me that you are a goldsmith, also?” he asked when the silence between them had stretched to discomfort.

“No. I just putter at it. Gifts for friends, things like that.” She held out a mug. “Would you rather sit outside? There’s a space where we’ll be protected if it rains. We could watch the storm, though I’m sure it will only be a tiny one. The wind isn’t blowing hard anymore.”

“Outside sounds fine.”

Before she could lead the way, the phone rang.

“Hey, there. I tried you earlier, but no answer. Were you out on a hot date with the mayor?”

“Um, I’ll have to call you back, Ash. I’ve got company right now.”

“So I was right! Rowena owes me ten bucks.”

“Lucky you. Bye now.”

Knowing full well that her friend would immediately call Row and the two of them would discuss her visitor made Piper uncomfortable, especially with the subject of their conversation so near.

“Sorry, that was a friend of mine.” She pushed open the door. “You didn’t have to come over here with me. The sailboat does have a motor.”

“I’m glad I came. I was curious to see where you lived.” He followed her through the French doors and sank down onto the chair nearest hers. “It’s a beautiful view.”

She tried to see the garden through his eyes. Her grandmother had ordered small, shielded lights installed high up which cast a wash of illumination over her favorite gnarled oak trees. Accent lights hidden by boulders would soon show off the glorious blues of delphiniums, bright-red poppies and candy-pink carnations. Buried in the beds of the soon-to-be fragrant and colorful rose garden were soft, romantic lights, and along the path oversize mushroom lights showed the next step on the path down to the lake.

“Sitting up here, it feels as if the world is far away. It must be a wonderful place to come home to.”

“I never get tired of it.” Piper wished he could see it on a summer day when Cathcart House was at its best. “Every day I thank my grandparents for leaving this to me.”

“How did they die?”

“They moved to Toronto when Papa’s heart needed an operation. But he was too frail to recover. They died within months of each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

“You didn’t come back?”

“Not for a while. It hurt too much.”

Low, growling thunderclaps rumbled their warnings across the water, and every so often a jagged slash of silver-blue lightning illuminated the rich, black-green forest across the lake for one brief space in time. A few droplets of rain spattered on the flagstones.

Why didn’t he say something?

“When I sit out here and see all the beauty God’s created, I can’t help but think of that hymn, ‘How Great Thou Art.’” It sounded silly, but Piper chalked her uneasiness up to the odd situation with the lights and the feeling that someone was watching them.

“I feel the same way,” Jason admitted. “There are so many lovely places around Serenity Bay. That’s one reason why I want to stay on top of the development we let in. It would be terrible to see the forests cut, the lake polluted and the coastline ruined in the name of progress. Know what I mean?”

She nodded. “Yes, I know. It’s like we’ve been entrusted with something precious, and while I do want others to see and appreciate it, I also want it to be here a hundred years from now.”

“For your grandchildren,” he teased.

“Yes,” she whispered. But Piper didn’t laugh.

Ever since that horrible afternoon she’d kissed Vance goodbye, she’d never allowed herself to think about kids. That only brought stabs of regret for what could never be. Her mother had clung to enough regrets for all of them. At twenty-three, when she’d left Wainwright Inc., Piper had made up her mind that she would never end up like her mother, pining for a man so consumed by making money he didn’t know what his own family was doing.

To love someone so much and have him ignore you—until you lost the will to live— No!

Love best suited people like her grandparents. Vance’s death proved that. Since he’d been gone, Piper had built a wall around her heart. She’d talked to her minister about it, talked to God about it, but somehow she couldn’t risk letting anyone get too close in case she got hurt again. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t trust God when it came to her father. God’s ways were slow and she had to stop Baron now.

“This has been great, but I think I’d better go now that the lightning has stopped. It’s getting quite late.” Jason stood, smiled down at her.

“You don’t have a light on your boat?” Piper asked, rising, too.

“Oh, yes. I won’t have any difficulty getting back.”

“Oh.” Obviously he was simply anxious to get away from her.

“I teach some boys a Sunday school class and I like to bone up on my lessons on Saturday night. They always have questions.” He stepped down off the deck, then turned back. “You’re very welcome to join us, if you’d like. It’s Bayside Believers Church, about half a block from Ida’s. If you meet me on the dock at nine-thirty, I’ll give you a ride. It’s always easier to go somewhere new with somebody else, don’t you think?”

His thoughtfulness touched a chord inside her. How was it he’d managed to read her so easily while he remained an enigma to her?

“Thank you. I’d like that. I’ll be there.”

“I’ll wait for you then. Good night.”

“Good night.” Piper stood on the deck, watching as he wound his way down the path and climbed aboard his boat.

When he looked up, she waved, waited for the sound of his powerful motor to recede then picked up the two mugs and walked inside, carefully locking the door behind her.

She rinsed the mugs, but left them in the sink until morning. Right now there was something else she needed to do.

Piper quickened her step down to the basement. She grabbed a nearby flashlight and shone it on the door. Yes, those were tool marks. And they were new.

She moved back upstairs, checked the back doorknob. No marks. Same thing on the front. No sign of forced entry. Her entire body slumped in relief.

“Thank you, Lord.”

Then she remembered.

“If you ever come and can’t get in, we’ll have a key hidden right here. Nobody will know about it but us.”

Piper flicked on the outside lights, unlocked the door and stepped onto the deck once more. She trod lightly across the deck, stopped in one corner. Her grandmother’s wishing well sat there, unused after the cold winter, cobwebs, dried leaves and dust frills gathered around the bottom.

The day she’d arrived she’d discovered one of her grandfather’s diaries was missing. It contained her grandfather’s thoughts from the last year of his life and it was the only one she hadn’t read, thinking she’d leave it until the grief wasn’t so fresh and it didn’t seem as if he were sitting there, saying the words to her.

Piper bent, tilted the well and slid her fingers beneath, searching for the key. Nothing. She pushed and shoved the heavy wooden piece, propped it up with a piece of wood, then shone her flashlight beneath.

There was no key.

She’d come here once after her grandparents had gone into the home and again after they’d died. The key had been there then. So had the diary. She could close her eyes right now and see the gilt letters etched on the leather cover.

Someone had taken the key and the journal.

Someone like Baron Wainwright?

After a hasty survey of the garden, Piper stepped back inside, closed and locked the door. She made sure all the windows were secure before she phoned the police. Piper felt certain they would find little and she was right. The police left no wiser than when they’d arrived.

Even so, Baron was the top suspect on her list. He’d hated her grandparents because they’d shielded her when he’d tried to force her back home years ago. He’d hated her because she’d told him the truth—that her mother would never have condoned his hateful behavior toward them, threatening them with legal action and lawsuits, but stood up to him and demanded he leave them alone or she’d disown him. And because she wouldn’t bow to his wishes.

Was taking Papa’s diary his way of denying her the solace she might have found in those last beloved words? Or was it a trick, a way to get her to call him and beg for what was rightfully hers?

If he thought she’d come crawling to him, he was in for disappointment. Piper had nothing more to say to her father.

Soft rain began falling, muffling the world outside. Piper lit a fire and curled up in her grandfather’s chair. She opened her briefcase and focused her attention on her plans for Serenity Bay.

But her thoughts kept returning to the tall, handsome mayor and the sense of gentleness she’d felt when he escorted her home.

Jason was a nice man. If she didn’t disappoint him about the Bay they could be good friends. But that’s all they’d be. Her heart couldn’t risk anything more.