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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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Chapter Seventeen

R
achel Pendergast checked her afternoon appointment schedule at Get Nailed as she ate her Weight Watchers frozen entrée. Jolene Peyton was down for a haircut. Rachel remembered the young girl from previous appointments. She recalled Jolene’s father, too, and his uneasiness about being in an establishment frequented by females. She found his attitude fairly typical of single fathers.

Jolene was a motherless child and she’d made it clear that she was eager to have her father remarry. Bruce Peyton’s wife had been killed in a car accident two years ago while driving to pick up Jolene from her kindergarten class. From what Rachel had heard, several hours had passed before anyone remembered that Jolene was still at the school. Not surprisingly, the seven-year-old was terrified of being left behind.

Despite Jolene’s effort to push Rachel and her father together, Bruce Peyton amused Rachel more than he attracted her. While she enjoyed the child’s company, Rachel felt that getting involved with a man so obviously in love with his dead wife had virtually no chance of developing into a healthy relationship.

Just after four, Jolene skipped into the salon, as relaxed in Get Nailed as her own bedroom. “Hi, Rachel,” she said, pigtails bouncing.

The child must be going into third grade this year; to Rachel, she seemed younger than her age-again, not surprising. “Are you ready to get your hair cut?” she asked, taking out a miniature version of the plastic cape.

Bruce followed his daughter into the salon but didn’t show any of her enthusiasm. He nodded briefly in Rachel’s direction, then glanced nervously around as if he suspected someone would wrestle him to the ground and dye his hair blue.

“Here you go,” Rachel said, turning the chair for Jolene to climb into. She adjusted the cape and secured the clasp.

With practiced ease Jolene flipped her pigtails over her shoulder. “I want you to cut it just like you did before.”

“Ah, a woman who knows her own mind,” Rachel murmured. She released the bands holding Jolene’s hair and carefully ran a brush through it. To her surprise Bruce didn’t take a seat or wander into the mall the way he had on previous visits. Instead he stood about two feet behind Rachel, watching every move.

“Do you want to sit down, Bruce?” she asked. He was making her uncomfortable, standing there like that. After cutting Jolene’s hair for the last few months, she would’ve thought he’d trust her with his daughter.

“Dad’s afraid I’m going to talk,” Jolene piped up.

“Jolene!” Bruce growled out a warning.

“He told me I’m not supposed to say anything about you marrying him.”

Rachel jerked around in time to see Bruce throw back his head and groan aloud.

“I don’t think we need to concern ourselves with that,” Rachel said, hoping to reassure him.

“You already met someone?” Jolene sounded horrified. Her big dark eyes widened with dismay.

“No, but-”

“She’s going to the auction, though,” Terri called out from the nail station on the far side of the salon. “We all are.”

“What auction?”

“The Dog and Bachelor Auction being put on by the animal shelter.” Terri pointed to the poster on the wall near the front door. “Everyone in town is talking about it.”

“I’m saving every penny of my tip money,” Jeannie, another nail tech, chimed in. “This could be my last chance.”

“I’m more interested in the dogs myself,” Rachel said for Bruce’s benefit. She could just imagine what he thought of all this chatter about men.

As if the conversation had suddenly made Bruce feel awkward, he walked over to the waiting area and claimed a chair. From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him reach for a magazine and pretend to read.

“What’s a Dog and Bachelor Auction?” Jolene asked, cocking her head to one side. Her gaze met Rachel’s in the big mirror.

“It’s a fun event where women make bids to adopt a special pet and a date with a bachelor.”

“What’s a bachelor?”

“A man who isn’t married,” Rachel explained.

“My dad’s not married anymore.”

“Hey, Bruce,” Terri shouted. “Have you signed up for the auction?”

Bruce lowered the magazine and shook his head. “Not on your life.”

“Why not?” Terri pressed. “It’s for charity, you know.”

“I’m not interested in dating again, thank you very much.” His steely-eyed look dared his daughter to comment.

“You said I could have a new mommy,” Jolene reminded him, yelling it across the salon.

“Someday,” he muttered.

“But that’s what you say when you really mean no.” Jolene’s face fell. “You
promised.
” The child seemed about to break into tears. “I’m the only girl in my class without a mommy and you said, you
promised
…”

Every eye in the salon turned to glare at Bruce Peyton.

Feeling sorry for him, Rachel helped the girl out of the chair and led her to the shampoo sink. She hoped that with a bit of distraction, Jolene would forget about her father’s promises, as well as the Dog and Bachelor Auction.

When Rachel finished shampooing Jolene’s hair, she noticed that Bruce had left the salon. She guessed he’d decided to wander around the shopping center, after all. That was probably for the best, considering the grilling he’d gotten earlier.

“Who else is going to be in the Back-lor auction?” Jolene asked once Rachel had her back in the chair.

“Navy men,” Terri supplied gleefully. “An entire aircraft carrier full of sailors arrived last month and I hear several of the crew have volunteered.”

“For the sake of charity,” Rachel reminded her friends.

“I don’t care why they signed up,” Jeannie said, filing her customer’s nails. “They’re fair game.”

Her friends’ enthusiasm for this auction astonished Rachel. Frankly, she didn’t hold out much hope of meeting anyone through a charity function. Yes, it was a clever way to raise funds, but as for meeting men, she’d been disappointed so many times she’d given up hope. Her thirtieth birthday had come and gone with barely a ripple of the calendar page. Her desire to settle into a comfortable married life was still unfulfilled, and Rachel had given up looking. If she was
meant to find a husband, then it would happen. In the meantime she was content.

“Would you pay money to go out with my dad if he was in the auction?” Jolene asked as Rachel sectioned the youngster’s hair.

She considered the question and shrugged. She didn’t want to disappoint the little girl, but she didn’t think Bruce was ready for another relationship. “I don’t know.”

Jolene frowned as though puzzled by Rachel’s answer. “Don’t you like my dad?”

“I don’t know your father well enough to say if I do or not,” she said honestly, hoping to ward off Jolene’s persistence.

“But if you bought my dad at the auction, you’d know him.”

Rachel finished sectioning Jolene’s hair and reached for her scissors. She decided it was time to have a short heart-to-heart with the little girl. “Sweetheart, it embarrasses your father when you talk about him remarrying.”

Jolene blinked. “That’s what he said, too-that it embarrasses him. But he wouldn’t say why.”

“I don’t think your father’s ready to get involved with anyone. He loved your mother very much and I think maybe he doesn’t want to fall in love again.”

“I loved her, too, but I want a mommy,” the girl said plaintively.

“Maybe it’s just a friend you need.”

“I have friends but they’re my age and-” She paused and seemed to contemplate Rachel’s words. “Could
you
be my friend?”

Rachel smiled. She thought it was a good idea for them both. Jolene was a motherless child and she was a woman without family. “I’d like that a lot.”

“I would, too.”

Rachel needed to talk to Bruce, make sure he sanctioned
this. She wanted it understood, however, that she wasn’t pressuring him into any kind of relationship. This was between her and Jolene. She would enjoy playing a role in the little girl’s life, but only if he had no objections.

Just as she was finishing up Jolene’s haircut, Bruce returned. He walked over to Valerie, who ran the reception desk, and pulled his wallet out of his rear pocket.

“Hi, Daddy,” Jolene called out.

His expression softened as he turned to face his daughter. “All right, all right, ladies,” he said and shook his head, looking chagrined. “You talked me into it. I signed up for the Dog and Bachelor Auction.”

“You did?” Terri was so excited she nearly leapt up from her table.

“Great,” Jeannie cried, equally thrilled.

Bruce glanced at Rachel, obviously anticipating her reaction. She nodded, letting him know she approved, but she hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed when she didn’t bid on him.

Chapter Eighteen

D
uring the summer months, Charlotte’s favorite night of the week was Thursday. For a number of years now, the Chamber of Commerce had sponsored Concerts on the Cove, bringing in a variety of free entertainment, from pop groups to jazz quartets. Tonight was an Irish band, with fiddles and one of those Celtic drums-Charlotte couldn’t remember what they were called. The concerts brought almost the entire town together once a week, as young and old alike crowded the small waterfront park, enjoying the festive atmosphere.

Before he came by to collect her, Ben had bought their dinner, teriyaki chicken and rice from her favorite take-out restaurant. Walking hand in hand, he carried their folding chairs, while she held on to their food.

“Oh, good. We have our spot,” she said, looking at the place under the mountain ash where they usually sat. Some couples shared a song or a favorite movie; Charlotte and Ben had their own patch of lawn in Waterfront Park.

Ben was so thoughtful and considerate toward her, Charlotte mused as he set up the chairs and insisted she sit down.
And she loved his old-fashioned manners-the way he held doors and stood when she entered a room. The world didn’t have much time or interest in those niceties anymore, but Charlotte was of a generation that still appreciated them.

They settled in their spot. It was still early, but they always arrived a good hour before the concert began in order to secure their special place.

“Oh, look,” she said with the take-out container balanced on her lap. “There’s Corrie McAfee. I don’t think I’ve seen her at any of the concerts before.”

Corrie glanced around as if she wasn’t sure where to go.

“Corrie,” Charlotte said, waving her arm. “Over here.”

Corrie headed eagerly in Charlotte’s direction. “Hello, Mrs. Jefferson.”

“Call me Charlotte. You know my friend Ben Rhodes, don’t you?”

Although he had his meal in his lap, Ben stood. Charlotte wouldn’t have expected anything less.

“This is your first time here, isn’t it?” Charlotte asked. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” She wanted Corrie to know she was welcome. She hadn’t had much opportunity to meet the McAfees. They were still considered new to the community, although they’d lived in Cedar Cove for several years. As a private investigator, Roy had probably learned more about this town and its people than he’d ever cared to know. It was important, Charlotte felt, to bring the couple into the fold.

Corrie gestured toward the parking lot. “I finally managed to talk Roy into coming down. He’s parking the car.”

“Sit here with us,” Charlotte invited. “I always bring an extra blanket. It sometimes gets a bit cool in the evenings, but you and Roy would be welcome to sit on it.”

“Oh, Roy’s bringing a couple of chairs.”

“Look, there’s Grace Sherman,” Charlotte said, waving
enthusiastically at the local librarian. “She has Buttercup with her. That is
such
a well-behaved dog.”

Grace waved back and continued down the waterfront at a brisk pace, the golden retriever trotting dutifully beside her.

Charlotte was proud of having brought Buttercup into Grace’s life. Three years ago, a good friend had moved into a retirement center and consequently needed a new home for her pet. Grace had immediately popped into Charlotte’s mind. That was shortly after Dan Sherman had turned up missing, and Charlotte understood how lost and lonely her daughter’s friend felt.

Roy appeared, walking along the waterfront with two folding chairs, one under each arm. He nodded when he saw Corrie.

“I don’t think he’s a happy camper about all this,” Corrie said under her breath. “I’m the one who’s fond of Irish music.”

Roy walked across the soft green grass toward them. “Hello, Charlotte, Ben,” Roy muttered as he set up the chairs.

Charlotte was surprised to see what a big man Roy was. She’d seen him around town any number of times, but always at a distance and hadn’t noticed how tall he was.

Ben stood again and the two men exchanged handshakes. “I don’t think we’ve met,” Ben said. “Ben Rhodes.”

After they chatted for a few moments, Roy settled next to his wife. They put their heads together, whispering for a moment, and then Roy excused himself.

“We were going to eat after the concert,” Corrie explained, “but that chicken looks so good, Roy decided to walk across the street and pick up dinner now.”

“The teriyaki is our favorite,” Charlotte told her. “This is way more than I can eat. Ben and I should probably share an order but the leftovers are always so delicious the next day.”

“Our daughter Linnette’s favorite meal is teriyaki chicken,” Corrie added conversationally. “Speaking of Linnette,” she began. She fumbled nervously with her hands, and then laughed. “That wasn’t a very good transition, was it?”

“I didn’t realize you had a daughter,” Charlotte said. She didn’t know the McAfees well enough to know about their children.

“Actually, I’ve been looking for a chance to talk to both of you about Linnette,” Corrie confessed. “She recently graduated as a physician’s assistant. It was an arduous program, but Linnette feels strongly about bringing medical professionals to small towns.”

Charlotte sat up straighter at this bit of news. “I suppose you’ve heard how hard Ben and I have worked to get a medical facility built in Cedar Cove.”

Corrie nodded. “That’s what I wanted to discuss. Do you have any news about what’s happening with that?”

For the last two months, Charlotte and Ben had shown up for every single council meeting. They sat in the front row, as if to say they weren’t going silently into that long, dark night. For her part, Charlotte had decided she’d keel over dead before she gave up her efforts to get a medical clinic in Cedar Cove.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she murmured. “So far, there’s been no real progress. Just a lot of talk.”

Ben leaned forward. “The argument is that even if the council were to fund a clinic, the town can’t afford personnel.”

“Linnette applied for a job in Montana, and I hate the thought of our daughter living so far from home.” Corrie waved to someone in the distance; the park was fast filling up. “I’d hoped something might turn up here in Cedar Cove. I miss my daughter and she’s only a ferry ride away now. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when she’s hundreds of miles from home.”

“A physician’s assistant,” Charlotte repeated. “Maybe there
is
something we can do.”

“What?” Ben asked, turning to Charlotte.

Charlotte gently patted his knee. “Leave that to me.”

Olivia and Jack arrived just then, and Charlotte stood and waved them over. Seeing their friends, family and neighbors was what made these summertime concerts so much fun. Her daughter waved back, but Charlotte noticed that Olivia and Jack seemed to be having a discussion before they made their way through the crowd to join her.

“There’s plenty of room here with Ben and me,” Charlotte told them. She moved her chair closer to Ben’s. Although she’d only taken a few bites of her dinner, she’d much rather visit than eat. Closing the container, she returned it to the plastic bag.

“Hello, Corrie,” Olivia said.

To Charlotte’s ears, her daughter sounded stressed, although she had no idea why that would be. This was a night for relaxing, for laughter and singing and catching up with friends.

Olivia glanced at Ben and greeted him, but her tone was remote, as if she hadn’t decided what to think of her mother’s friend.

Her daughter’s attitude troubled Charlotte, and she decided to talk to Olivia about it later, when they had a private moment.

“Sit down, sit down,” she instructed Olivia. “Jack, you’re looking fit these days.”

He patted his stomach. “I could lose a few pounds, according to Olivia.”

Charlotte smiled. So that was the reason her daughter had asked her to recommend a healthy-eating cookbook. Charlotte had bought them shortly after her cancer treatments
and tried some of the recipes. They weren’t bad, but over time she’d gradually reverted to eating the way she always had. Old habits were difficult to break.

“You know Corrie McAfee, don’t you?” Charlotte said, wanting to make sure Olivia made Corrie feel welcome. “This is the McAfees’ first time at Concerts on the Cove.”

Olivia nodded to Corrie. “Good to see you again.”

“You, too,” Corrie said.

The two women exchanged long looks. Charlotte didn’t know what that was about, either. Surely her daughter and the wife of the local P.I. couldn’t possibly be colluding about anything.

“Corrie and I were just talking about a health clinic here in Cedar Cove,” Charlotte continued, hoping to include Olivia in the conversation. “The McAfees’ daughter is a physician’s assistant, and Corrie was just saying how nice it would be if she worked in this area.”

Olivia nodded absently.

“A health clinic is important, Olivia,” Charlotte said, her voice a little sharper than usual.

“I agree,” she muttered, frowning.

“I suppose you think a bigger jail is more of a priority.”

“We could use a larger jail, but-”

“You can’t be serious!” Charlotte was aghast that her daughter would think additional jail cells should take precedence over the health concerns of their community.

“We do need a bigger jail,” Jack concurred. “In fact I just wrote an article this afternoon about the problems with transporting local offenders to jails in Yakima County. But, to my way of thinking, we need a medical facility more.”

Olivia nodded once again, silently agreeing with her husband.

Her daughter’s lack of verbal support for her cause hurt
Charlotte. Olivia was in a position to do much more and she hadn’t because it wasn’t important enough to her.

As if he understood her disappointment in Olivia, Ben reached for her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. She swallowed hard and managed a smile as she turned to this man she’d come to love so late in life.

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