Rebecca's Heart (4 page)

“
Was
handsome?”

Rebecca turned to the doorway at Luke’s voice, letting the portrait flutter onto her lap. He stood there, his lips turned into a half grin. Her stomach lurched. Broad shoulders, square jawline, dark, wavy hair. He shouldn’t affect her this way. But he did.

“I …” Rebecca struggled to regain her composure. “Your mother was just showing me some of your father’s drawings. Your parents knew my grandparents on Nantucket Island.”

Luke caught her gaze, sending her stomach reeling. “It’s quite a small world, isn’t it?”

“Your timing is perfect, Luke.” Mrs. Hutton smiled at her son as she gathered the pictures. “You can join us for lunch.”

Luke’s mouth watered as a generous helping of stew was set in front of him. He’d managed to get away for lunch, and after seeing Rebecca again, he wasn’t a bit sorry he’d cut his morning’s work short. Her yellow dress, shimmering in the midday sunlight that filtered through the large open window, brought out glints of gold in her dark eyes. She wore her hair the same way as the last time he’d seen her, parted in the center and secured at the nape of her neck, with short, curly bangs framing her heart-shaped face.

“Luke? Haven’t you heard a word we’ve said?”

Luke shot his mother a sheepish grin and set his spoon in his bowl. “Sorry, Mother—my mind must have been wandering.”

“You spend far too much time thinking about that boat you’re building.” Mrs. Hutton pressed her napkin to her lips. “Of course I can’t complain too much.” She turned her gaze to Rebecca. “It’s good to have him around. One of these days he’ll find himself a good wife, and I’ll be wishing he was back.”

Luke stifled a laugh, wondering what his mother would say if she knew what he had been thinking. Finding a wife had never been a priority in his life. Not until lately, anyway. Right now he could hardly keep his gaze off the dark-haired beauty seated across the table. Rebecca smiled at him, and Luke looked away, trying to ignore the strange sensation coursing through his veins.

“I was saying how amazing it is that I knew Rebecca’s grandparents so well,” his mother said, interrupting his thoughts again.

Luke took a sip of his water. “Of course, with both our families in the whaling business, it certainly makes sense that our paths would cross.”

Rebecca’s cheeks flushed slightly as she turned to him. “Your mother’s promised to tell me about my grandparents.”

With the main course cleared away, dessert was served. The lemon cake tasted perfect, but at the moment all Luke noticed was Rebecca. The clock in the corner of the dining room chimed two o’clock. He needed to get back to work but instead lingered at the table, laughing at his mother’s anecdotes from years gone by.

“What brought about the changes in my grandmother?” Rebecca set her fork down, letting it clink softly against the blue china plate. “The picture you paint of my grandparents is nothing like the one I know. Your descriptions make them seem so happy and full of life.”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Scooting back slightly from the table, Luke’s mother folded her hands in her lap. “I’d always felt rather close to Margaret; then gradually we began to drift apart. I noticed subtle changes at first, and I never knew what started it. I’m thankful that in the past few years our friendship has resumed.”

Rebecca stared out the open window, a trace of sadness marking her expression. “Maybe I’ll have that chance someday, as well.”

Setting her napkin on the table, Luke’s mother stood. “I hate to cut our lunch short, but I am due shortly at the Mills Street Orphanage to speak to Agnes about an upcoming fund-raiser I’m coordinating.”

Rebecca smiled, bringing out the now-familiar dimple in her cheek. “Thank you so much for inviting me to lunch, Mrs. Hutton.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, and we’ll be sure to do this again soon. Luke, why don’t you walk Rebecca home? I know she would appreciate the company.”

Rebecca shook her head. “That’s not necessary, really. I’m sure you must get back to work.”

Luke paused for a moment, wondering if Rebecca was just being considerate or if she really did want him as her escort. Unable to stop himself, he grinned. He certainly wasn’t going to throw away a chance to get to know her better. “It’s not a problem at all. I’d be delighted.”

three

Laughing aloud at one of Rebecca’s stories about her siblings, Luke permitted himself to glance at her profile as they strolled down the paved walkway. The Atlantic Ocean, its whitecaps spraying as the tides rolled in, spread beyond them to the east, the bustling city to the west. He breathed in the smell of salt water that permeated the air, bringing with it the sense of freedom he always felt when he was near the ocean. Today, though, it wasn’t simply the allure of the sea reeling him in.

Catching the smile that fluttered across Rebecca’s lips, Luke grinned. There was something about Rebecca that had captured his interest from the moment they met at the furniture shop. While her beauty couldn’t be argued, he was well aware there was much more to her than a lovely face. In the short time he’d been around her, he’d seen her intelligence coupled with a sense of wit.

“You really didn’t have to walk me back to the shop, though I do appreciate it.” Rebecca turned to him briefly, allowing him another peek into her mahogany-shaded eyes. He had no doubt this was a place in which he could get lost if he allowed himself the chance.

“I don’t mind, really.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “My mother seems pleased with what you have planned for the parlor.”

“It took quite awhile for her to choose which fabric she wanted to use.” Rebecca chuckled softly then stopped to gaze across the water, which was sprinkled with dozens of stately vessels. “With that decision made I’ll be able to start working.”

Motioning toward the northern part of the harbor, Luke pointed out his boss’s shipyard. “That’s where I’m learning the shipbuilding trade. Dwight Nevin’s one of the best.”

“What kind of crafts do you build? I believe you mentioned you were currently working on a two-masted, rigged schooner?”

“You have a good memory.” Luke grasped the wooden rail beside Rebecca and stared out across the crystal blue water, glad for the opportunity to prolong their walk. “We mainly build commercial cargo and fishing boats, though we have worked on a couple of yachts. I’m trying to convince my boss that the private sector is the way of the future. Not that there won’t be a need for the commercial side, of course, but more and more people are pouring money into crafts simply for pleasure.”

“Seems a bit extravagant to me.”

Luke laughed. “You’re exactly right. It’s unbelievable what people will spend their money on. Believe it or not, one man had an electrically ventilated dairy built on his yacht where he keeps a cow so he can have fresh milk every morning for breakfast.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Surely you’re joking?”

“Not at all.” He smiled, remembering that he’d reacted the same way when first told about the infamous yacht. “Of course, most boats are built to be more practical. Even the private ones.”

“I’ve always thought the ships were so majestic. I think I could stand here for hours, just gazing across the water.”

Luke cleared his throat. Before he listened any longer to what his heart was telling him, he needed her to know he was involved in far more than merely building vessels for others to pilot. “Rebecca, there’s something I need to tell you—”

“Look at that one. Isn’t she beautiful?” Rebecca had turned away from him, missing his last words. The wind tugged at her hair as she pointed at the craft, its white sails blowing in the wind.

“It’s a whaling vessel.” Luke watched the ship as it headed out to sea, another reminder of his own upcoming voyage. “You’ll see fewer and fewer these days than you did twenty or thirty years ago. Soon they’ll be nothing more than a reminder of the past.”

“That may be true, but there will always be fishermen of one kind or another. Those sailors have such dangerous jobs.” Rebecca shuddered despite the warmth of the breeze blowing off the ocean. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmother. I can’t help but wonder if part of the reason she became so cold and distant was because of my grandfather’s work. I couldn’t imagine living like that. Having to wait, month after month, year after year, for the return of your loved one.”

Luke’s fingers pressed against the rail. He had planned to tell her the truth, but her words stopped him. No matter how strong the attraction he felt toward her, he was fooling himself to think that anything could come of their newfound friendship. How could he have considered courting her with such little time remaining until his next voyage? And even if she did feel something toward him, he knew now she’d never wait for him. She’d just made that clear.

Turning abruptly on his heels, Luke faced her, forcing a smile. “I’d better get you back to the shop. Mr. Nevin’s expecting me at work this afternoon.”

Ten minutes later Rebecca stood at the front door of Macintosh Furniture and Upholstery, watching Luke merge into the busy crowd of pedestrians. His friendly but curt good-bye had made her certain something had happened between his mother’s home and the shop, but for the life of her she had no idea what. She’d been confused by the sudden change in his demeanor at the waterfront. In fact, up until that point she’d even thought she detected a hint of interest on his part. Maybe she was imagining things.

The bell above the door jingled as Rebecca stepped into the shop, thankful it was empty of customers. She laid her bag of fabric samples on the tailor’s bench and sank into one of the chairs. It didn’t make sense. Maybe she’d been the only one who’d felt the attraction as they talked about common interests such as baseball, politics, and spiritual matters. Of course, she’d been wrong once before when it came to love and marriage. Was God trying to tell her something again?

Rebecca looked up as Caroline entered the showroom from the back.

“How was your afternoon with Mrs. Hutton?” Caroline asked.

“I thought you were supposed to be taking a nap after lunch.”

“I’ll be on my way upstairs in a minute. Philip asked me to watch the shop momentarily while he stepped out.” She rested her hands across the top of her widening stomach. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Rebecca pulled the pieces of fabric she’d shown to Mrs. Hutton out of her bag and laid them with the rest of the samples. “It was fine. After about an hour she finally decided on the fabric. It’s going to look stunning once it’s completed. Then she invited me for lunch.”

“Really? That’s wonderful. I’ve heard she’s a difficult woman to please. You must have done quite well.”

Rubbing the satiny material between her fingers, Rebecca smiled. “Her son ate with us, and the food was wonderful. Irish stew and dumplings—”

“I’m not interested in the menu.” Caroline held up her hand and laughed. “What about her son? I have the impression you’re leaving out some rather important details to this story.”

Rebecca lowered her gaze. The last thing she was interested in at the moment was having a discussion about Luke Hutton. “I’m not leaving anything out.”

Caroline sat across from Rebecca and rested her elbows against the table. “And I’m not carrying an extra twenty-five pounds around my waist.”

Rebecca laughed but felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Yes, I met Mrs. Hutton’s son, Luke, but it’s not an important detail. What is important is that not only does Mrs. Hutton want slipcovers made up for the furniture in her parlor; she wants matching drapes, as well.”

Caroline leaned back in her chair. “I’m getting the feeling that Luke is quite good-looking, and you’re a tad smitten. Am I right?”

Rebecca let out a low moan. “There’s more to men than their looks, Caroline.”

“Absolutely, but a handsome face added to the package can’t hurt. So is he?”

“Is he what?”

Caroline grinned. “Handsome, of course.”

“He’s very good-looking.” If Rebecca closed her eyes, she knew she would be able to see every detail of his face, from his maple-brown eyes to the slight cleft in his chin. Instead she stared at the swirls of yellows and blues in the fabric in front of her, willing the image to vanish. “He builds ships, as you told me, and for now lives at home with his mother. Most important, though, he has a strong faith and is very active in his church.”