Bolted (27 page)

“Damn right,” Ralston said placidly.

Greta ran her fingers through her hair, leaving it standing more or less on end. Hank discovered he liked it that way. “How did you know I was here?” she asked.

Mrs. Brewster shrugged. “Ryan told me.”

Greta’s expression became guarded. “Ryan’s in the harbor?”

“So far as I know, he’s in Boston. But he stopped by long enough to tell us you were here before he drove on home.”

“Oh.” Greta blew out a breath. “Well, good. I mean, I was coming home today, honest.”

“And, of course, you wouldn’t have found me if you had,” Mrs. Brewster said briskly. “Since Owen and I are going to Greenbush Island for the weekend.”

“Oh,” Greta repeated. “I just… Could I maybe talk to you for a minute?” She sounded a little desperate.

“You mean in private?” Mrs. Brewster shrugged. “Why not. You boys can take care of yourselves, can’t you?”

“Sure.” Hank gave them both another reassuring grin. “Don’t worry about us. We can wait.”

“Good.” Mrs. Brewster turned back to Greta. “Well, then, shall we go inside? I assume they’ve got a lobby here.”

“More or less,” Greta mumbled. She held the screen door for her mother and then followed her.

Hank glanced back at Owen Ralston. “They may be a while. Would you like some iced tea or something?”

Ralston shook his head. “Nope. Good time for a nap.” He settled back in his chair, closing his eyes.

Hank watched him for a moment, then dropped into the chair next to him. All of a sudden, a nap seemed like a fine idea.

Chapter Nineteen

Greta was trying not to babble. She had a feeling if she opened her mouth, the torrent of words that came out would bury them both. And her mother didn’t look like she’d enjoy that much.

Her mother looked around the lobby of the Hotel Grand with narrowed eyes. “You’re staying here? Seriously?”

“It’s fine,” Greta said quickly. “The rooms are really…nice.”

Her mother looked unconvinced. “Ryan said you were cooking.”

“I am. I get a free room in exchange for cooking the meals and preparing some pastries for the store.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “Why do you need free room and board? What happened? Did you lose all your savings?”

Greta gritted her teeth. “No, Mom. It was just a short-term deal. Alice only takes cash and all I had were credit cards. Besides, it’s been fun. I like cooking.”

“But you’re leaving now?” Her mother settled into the leather chair. At least it didn’t send out a puff of dust.

“I guess so,” Greta said slowly. “I mean, I was going back so I could talk to you, but here you are.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “With Owen Ralston.”

“Here I am,” her mother said hurriedly. “So talk.”

“I’m really sorry, Mom.” She sighed. “I should have told you about Ryan and me when it happened. I meant to. And then I got to the harbor, and everything started with the wedding…”

Her mother held up her hand. “How long ago did you and Ryan separate?”

Greta sighed again. “Three months, more or less.”

“So it wasn’t really the wedding that was the problem, was it?”

Greta’s heart gave a hard thump. She shook her head.

“Then tell me—why couldn’t you talk to me about it? What were you afraid I’d say?” Her mother frowned. “You couldn’t possibly think I’d be on Ryan’s side, could you?”

“No, it’s not that.” She paused. “Well, not exactly. It’s just that I thought you’d be…disappointed. Again.”

“Disappointed in you?” Her mother’s eyebrow arched.

Greta nodded. “I was afraid you’d think I’d made another rotten decision, jumped into something without thinking, and then gotten burned. Just like the purple hair and the prom dress that was too tight and all those other times I did stuff you said I shouldn’t do.” She sank onto the couch opposite her mother. “I should have listened to you when you told me I was rushing into the marriage, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t. I wish I could promise I’ll listen from now on, but I don’t think that would be honest.”

Her mother sighed. “Now would be a great time for me to say I told you so. It’s probably the best chance I’ll ever have, in fact. But I wouldn’t be much help to you if I did. What happened, Greta?”

“He…hooked up with somebody else. Sort of. I guess it wasn’t permanent, but when I found out about it, I was really hurt. I kicked him out, and then I realized I didn’t want him to come back even if he said he was sorry and wanted to.” She rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. “And I was really sort of embarrassed about the whole thing. That he’d found somebody else—or let somebody else find him. It didn’t say much for our marriage that he did.”

Her mother’s jaw tightened. “I thought it was probably something like that—the rat bastard.”

Greta blinked. “Mom?”

“Well, he was, Greta. Even if he says she seduced him, that’s really no excuse. He was weak enough to let it happen. So what have you been doing since then?”

Greta shrugged. “I worked for one of my friends in Boston at her bakery—sort of a temporary fill-in, only she started talking about making it permanent and full time. I’m supposed to decide if I want to go on working for her now.”

“So you’re going back to Boston?” Her mother sounded like she was keeping her voice carefully neutral.

Greta shook her head. “I don’t know if I am. There’s this…possibility here.”

“Cooking for this place?” Her mother looked around the lobby again, pursing her lips. “Really?”

“It’s more than that. I’d be baking pastries to sell here and at some other general stores in the area. We’ve been brainstorming about the details, but it seems doable.”
And I like it here. And they like me. And there’s Hank.
She licked her lips. Not what she should be thinking about.

“What do you want to do?” Her mother folded her arms.

Greta took a deep breath. “I want to not rush into any more stupid decisions. I want to…not make any more mistakes.”

Her mother folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head. “Good luck with that. It’s not something I’ve ever been good at myself.”

“But you’ve been better at it than I have,” Greta said slowly. “You and Josh. Especially Josh. I know I’ve let you down.”

“Oh Greta, for pity’s sake! Will you listen to yourself?” Her mother snorted. “Your brother’s fiancée took off with another man. From what I can deduce, your brother’s been doing who knows what with Devon Grant. And I’m the one who pressured Josh and Allie into deciding to get married in the first place. I wouldn’t say anybody in our family is ready to be declared infallible.”

Greta fought down a totally inappropriate grin. “Well, there is that.”

“And so I repeat—what do you want to do?” She leaned forward. “Go back to Boston? Go back to Promise Harbor? Stay here?”

Greta stared down at her feet. Her stomach clenched tight.
Decision time, Greta.
“I really think…I’d like to stay here.” She took a breath. That was a lot easier than she’d thought it would be. “We’ve got some definite possibilities. So far the stuff I’ve baked has sold like gangbusters, and Alice seems to feel there’s a market beyond Tompkins Corners. And there’s a possibility that we might do something with the dining room too, maybe make it a bed and breakfast.” She took a quick glance around the lobby, managing not to shudder. “Of course, that’s sort of in the future.”

Her mother shrugged. “Sounds good to me. I can think of a couple of places in the harbor that could benefit from having decent baked goods for a change. The Promise Harbor Inn’s croissants remind me of potholders.”

Greta smiled again, then let the smile dim. “Of course, I might screw it up again.”

Her mother nodded. “You might. Or somebody else might. Or we might be hit by a freak hurricane that will wipe out your kitchen. Anything could happen, Greta. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a try anyway.”

The door to the general store swished open, and Alice leaned into the room. “Are you making lunch today, or are we on our own?”

“Oh lord, I forgot all about it.” Greta glanced back at her mother. “Have you and Owen eaten?”

She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink. “We were going to have lunch on the road.”

“Then come on into the dining room, and I’ll fix everyone something.” She turned toward Alice. “Alice, this is my mother, Sophie Brewster. Mom, Alice Dubrovnik—she owns the hotel. Hank’s outside too, along with Mom’s friend Owen.”

Alice and her mother nodded at each other a little warily before Alice headed back to the store. Greta walked toward the kitchen door but turned back for a moment. “Mom, about Owen…”

Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Don’t go there, Greta. Just don’t.”

Greta bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Well, anyway, thanks, Mom. Really. Thanks.”

Her mother sighed. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart. At least I can offer good advice for one of my offspring.”

Lunch had been both delicious and surreal. Greta made some kind of cold vegetable soup that everybody slurped up, along with sandwiches and mint iced tea. Nadia was more Nadia than usual, with a lavish paisley shawl and golden hoop earrings. Hank half expected her to start telling fortunes. Alice delivered several zingers in her customary dry monotone. Hyacinth described her newest find, a couple of house finches currently at the bird feeder.

Greta’s mother sat through it all with a faint smile, making some friendly comments to Nadia, more of them to Hyacinth, fewer to Alice. If she was overwhelmed, she didn’t show it. Her friend Owen said little. Every once in a while they exchanged smiles. Hank wondered if Greta had noticed, but he didn’t feel like calling it to her attention.

In fact, she seemed to be avoiding his gaze as much as possible. He couldn’t decide if that was a problem or not. Probably it was, but he didn’t feel up to analyzing it at the moment. He also didn’t feel like going back to the dig. God help him if Marty decided to do some excavating on his own, but he had a feeling the kid was more likely to take the opportunity for a quick siesta than to do any unsanctioned digging.

Finally, Greta’s mother and her friend went back to their car again, giving Greta a list of unsolicited instructions for things she needed to do around the house when she went back to Promise Harbor. Or at least Greta’s mother did that. Her friend Owen settled back in his seat, closing his eyes again. The ability to nap whenever you had a chance was very useful, at least from Hank’s point of view.

Finally, they were gone. Greta stood on the front porch, staring down the road after them.
Now or never. Hopefully the former.

He stepped beside her. “So what’s it going to be—stay or go?” He hadn’t meant to be that direct about it, but he really wanted to know.

She glanced back at him, her lips turning up in a faint smile. “Stay, I guess. I mean, there’s no point in going back to Promise Harbor to talk to my mom when she’s currently off having a spa vacation with Owen.”

He felt as if his knees had quite suddenly turned to applesauce. He reached a hand to the porch railing to keep from collapsing in sheer relief. “And long term?” His voice sounded a little choked, but maybe she wouldn’t notice.

She sank down slowly on the top step. “Long term I may give Alice’s idea a whirl. I’m starting to think it might be possible after all.”

“More than possible, I’d say. Highly probable.” He slid down beside her, hoping that he’d get enough muscle control back to be able to stand up later.

“Possible,” she said firmly. “I’m not taking it farther than that. And I’m going to be doing this on a month-by-month basis, maybe even week-by-week.”

“Still. You’ll be the head chef of the Hotel Grand, Tompkins Corners, Massachusetts. That’s got to count for something.”

She glanced up at him, and he grinned. For a moment the corners of her mouth trembled as if she might smile herself, but then she turned back to the road again. “I don’t know how this is going to work out. I mean, I was only going to stay for a week. All of a sudden, I’m here for the foreseeable future. It’s a little scary.”

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about Alice or him, but he decided to assume it was the latter. At least, he could do something about that. “I never thought of myself as a scary man.”

“You’re not. Exactly.”

“Just sort of.” He stretched his arm around her waist. The worst she could do would be to push him away, but he was really hoping she wouldn’t.

She didn’t. Instead, she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I’ve only been divorced for two weeks. And this all happened really fast.”

“So we can slow it down a little now. But
fast
doesn’t necessarily mean
wrong
.”

“No it doesn’t.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes dark.

“What’s really bothering you, Greta?” He took a deep breath. “Were you toying with my affections? Was this supposed to be over by now?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Partly. Maybe mostly.” He sighed. “Are you scared because what was going to be a fling turned out to be more than that?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Partly.” Her lips quirked up. “Maybe mostly. It’s definitely beyond the fling stage by now.”

“I repeat. We can take it slow if that’s what you want.” Although slow didn’t sound all that appealing all of a sudden. As a matter of fact, he decided he’d really like to carry her up the stairs and maybe stay there for a couple of days. Assuming Alice would provide room service. “We can take it at whatever speed you want, provided you’re willing to keep going.”

She licked her lips. “I’m willing. Most definitely willing.”

He touched his lips to hers, lightly, then more firmly, smelling lavender and sage, sweet and savory.
Greta. Oh my, yes.

She pulled back slowly, then dropped her head on his shoulder again, smiling. “You’re a really great guy, Doc. I’m very glad I didn’t leave you in that hole a week ago.”

“Needless to say, so am I.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Do you need to go back to Promise Harbor for anything? We could go over there now, after I check to make sure Marty hasn’t decided to dig a tunnel to nowhere. Maybe Barney’s wouldn’t be such a bad place for dinner. You could tell your buddy Bernice you’re in the bakery business.”