Rose Harbor in Bloom (12 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Rose Harbor in Bloom
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“I want to see you,” George insisted. “You owe me that much.”

The truth was, she owed him far more, but still she hesitated. Closing her eyes, her heart heavy with reluctance, she whispered, “I’ll see you.”

“Thank you.”

“But before we meet, there are a few things you should know.”

He hesitated. “All right.”

“First off, I don’t look anything like I did twenty years ago.” Those days were long gone.

He laughed. “And you think I do?”

In her mind, he’d never changed. She continued to hold a mental picture of him from the first time they’d met. He’d been young and dashing—in her eyes, anyway. While the years had taken their toll on her, she couldn’t picture George any differently than he had been the last time they were together.

“You probably won’t recognize me.”

He laughed ever so softly and contradicted her: “I’ll recognize you, Mary,”

“Okay, whatever you say. It’s time for you to go. I shouldn’t need to remind you that you have court today.”

“I’m coming to see you this afternoon; just tell me where and when.” He was so eager, so ready to do whatever was necessary.

“I’ll come to you,” she offered, and really that was the most practical solution.

“No. You’ve been sick. Tell me the name of your hotel. You’re in a hotel, aren’t you?”

This was getting complicated. “No, I’m not.”

He waited for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, he asked, “Where are you staying?”

“Ever heard of Cedar Cove?” All Mary could do was hope that she wasn’t making a big mistake giving him this much information regarding her whereabouts.

“Of course I know Cedar Cove; it’s across Puget Sound from Seattle. For the love of heaven, what made you decide to stay there?”

“I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Oh, George, I was afraid. I flew all the way across the country on a wild-goose chase. It was a crazy idea.”

“To see me.” He sounded both pleased by and proud of the gesture.

“Yes, I’m willing to admit I came because of you.” But there were other reasons as well, reasons he knew nothing about.

“But you were afraid of being too close.” He supplied her reason for staying on the other side of Puget Sound.

“Yes … I suppose. As far as I knew, you were still married to Kathleen. I didn’t want to disrupt your life.”

“I’ll be done in court by two-thirty, three at the latest; if not, I’ll have my associate take first chair.”

Mary glanced at her watch. It was just after noon. He must have collected his messages and phoned on his lunch break.

“I’ll check the ferry schedule, but if it’s inconvenient, then I’ll drive around through Tacoma.”

“Okay.” Mary could only pray that she’d made the right decision in agreeing to this meeting.

“I’ll come directly to your hotel.”

“No.” Her response was quick and immediate. Letting him know she was in Cedar Cove was a stretch, and one she already regretted.

“Then you tell me where you want me to go.”

The problem was Mary didn’t really know any place other than the Java Joint. That location would be less than ideal for a variety of reasons. Then she remembered the lovely Victorian-style building she’d seen on her ride into town. The building had been pink and feminine-looking, with dainty lace curtains in the windows and flower beds in bloom. A blossoming cherry tree, filled with small pink flowers, made for a postcard-perfect picture.

Mary had been automatically drawn to it. As little as two years ago, nothing about this tearoom would have attracted her notice.
But two years ago she’d had her breasts. Two years ago her femininity hadn’t been in question, at least in her own mind. She’d worn pencil-thin skirts and stiletto heels. These days she battled lymphedema and other adverse side affects as a result of several bouts of chemotherapy.

“There’s a tearoom in town.”

“A tearoom?”

She smiled at the surprise in his voice. “That doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

“Not at all.”

“You’ll know it right away—it’s pink.”

“A pink tearoom,” he echoed, and it sounded like he was holding back a laugh. The woman he knew twenty years ago would have shunned such a place for fear of being stereotyped.

“I’m not the woman you remember, George. Keep that in mind; otherwise, you’re about to be bitterly disappointed.”

“Then I’ll look forward to meeting the woman you’ve become.”

His gentle understanding made this all the more difficult.

“I’ll be at the pink tearoom as close to four as I can make it,” he told her.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.” But she didn’t disconnect the line, wanting to hold on to him for as long as possible. After a couple of moments she realized George hadn’t hung up on his end, either.

After several more moments, he whispered, “I never stopped loving you.”

A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “Don’t love me, George.”

“It’s too late to stop now. Did you really think time would change the way I feel about you?”

She had no answer for him.

“Hang up,” she insisted, although her voice trembled with emotion. “You’ll be late for court.”

“You hang up first,” he whispered back.

“I’m not the one due in court.”

“Hang up, Mary.”

Because he gave her no choice, she ended the call, but she clenched her phone in her hand, her grip on it as strong as she could make it.

Oh, my, what had she done? How could she have been so foolish and weak as to contact George? What did she think would come of this?

Nothing. Nothing could.

It was too late for her, and far too late for the two of them.

Chapter 11

Mary was busy on the phone. My other guests had all left for lunch at the Taco Shack, which left me pretty much free, so I grabbed my garden scissors and headed outside to gather some flowers.

Rhododendrons are the Washington state flower and come in a variety of amazing colors. Several bushes dotted the property. The pink blossoms on the one growing along the side of the inn were huge, so I was able to cut enough for several arrangements. I’ve always loved flowers, and I enjoy having them around the house.

Peggy Beldon warned me that I would need to be sensitive to any guests who might have allergies, so I limited the amount I brought inside. But the rhodies were so beautiful and I was afraid I might have gone just a bit overboard.

I arranged the blossoms and set a few of them about the breakfast
area and placed a second equally large vase in the living room, too. A smaller bouquet went in the hallway on a credenza I had on the second floor, and then I took yet another up to the third level. The flowers added color and left a sweet fragrance.

I was coming down the stairs when Mary entered the house. She looked a bit shaken. Although concerned, I hesitated to say anything. Mary seemed to want her privacy, and I honored that, but nevertheless I was worried about her. I noticed how quickly she tired and how hard she tried to hide any weakness. I hoped to make her as comfortable as possible without being overbearing or intrusive.

“Would you like some fresh flowers in your room?” I asked. I’d cut enough rhododendrons to easily fill two or three more vases.

Mary looked away as if this was a momentous decision. “Yes, that would be very nice, thank you.”

“I’ll see to it right away. Can I get you anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, and placed her hand on the railing, starting up the stairs.

“If you’d like, I could bring a pot of tea to your room.”

“No, but thanks.”

She passed me on the stairwell, and kept her head lowered. For a moment it looked as if she’d been crying, but I didn’t see Mary as the type of woman who easily gave in to tears.

After I delivered the flowers to Mary’s room, I ate a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for lunch. Rover was antsy, I noticed. He couldn’t seem to make up his mind about what he wanted. He went into the laundry room a couple of times and then came out and looked intently at me. Then he went to his bed, circled it two or three times, but didn’t lie down. Instead he went and stood at the back door as if he needed to go out. Yet when I opened it for him, he stayed where he was and just looked up at me as if I was supposed to be able to read his mind.

“What’s with you?” I asked my canine friend.

After a few moments, he returned to the laundry room where I kept his leash.

“You want to go for walk?”

Standing up on his hind legs, he pressed his paws against my thigh with that same intense look. Not knowing what else to do, I went into the laundry room and got out his leash. As soon as he saw it, he did a small happy dance, which told me a walk was exactly what was on his mind.

We’d fallen into a routine and generally took our walks after breakfast. His demand, and that was what it was, came as a surprise, especially since we’d already been out once that morning.

“Okay, okay, but let me finish my lunch first.” I grabbed a cookie on my way out the door.

As soon as I connected the leash, Rover started straining down the back porch steps and half dragging me with him. This, too, wasn’t normal behavior. “What’s going on, Rover?” I asked. Seeing how agitated he was, I decided to let him lead me wherever he wanted to go.

It soon became apparent that Rover was headed to Mark’s house. Not once did he stop to mark his territory.

“Rover,” I insisted. “Mark isn’t home. He’s working elsewhere today, remember?” Mark had made a point of letting me know he would be unavailable because he had another project he was working on. A project other than my rose garden!

Rover refused to listen and had me trotting to keep pace with him. He pulled me around the back of Mark’s residence, where he’d set up his workshop.

“Rover,” I chastised him. “Mark isn’t here.”

“Who’s there?” Mark called from inside his shop. He sounded faint and breathy.

“Mark?” I rushed forward to open the door, twisting the knob hard only to find it locked. I knocked as hard as I could. “Is there anyone there? Mark? Mark, are you all right?”

“Yes.” Again it was Mark with that same low, weak voice. “Come in.”

“I can’t. The door is locked.”

“Key,” he said, and it sounded as if he were in a lot of pain. “Kitchen drawer by the sink.”

“You can’t open it?” I asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll get it.” I raced into the house, using the back entrance. Rover remained outside by the workshop and let loose with a howl when I left.

“I’m coming back,” I reassured him.

I found it interesting that Mark had locked his shop but not the house. Apparently, everything he valued was in his place of business and not his home. I’d never been inside his house before, and while curious as to what it was like, I didn’t dare take time to look around.

To add to my frustration, the key wasn’t where he said it was. I slammed open one drawer after another until I located a key chain with a number of odd-shaped keys. Rushing back to the shop, it took two or three tries to find the key to open the door. When I pushed it open, Rover raced into the shop ahead of me, barking erratically.

Mark was nowhere to be seen.

“Down here,” he said between gritted teeth.

He sat on the floor with his legs pinned beneath a heavy collapsed table. So this was the all-important project that required his attention.

I got down next to him on my knees and could see he was in a great deal of pain. His face was white with it.

“I’ll call nine-one-one,” I said.

“No.” His voice was hard and insistent.

“Mark …”

“I’ll be okay, just get this damned table off of me.”

Who did he think I was, Superwoman? “I can’t lift that thing.” Nor was I willing to sit there and argue with him. He needed more help than I would be able to give him. Thankfully, I’d brought my cell with me. I took it out of my pocket and dialed for help.

“Jo Marie,” he said, wincing as he spoke, “do you always have to do the exact opposite of what I ask?”

I ignored him, speaking to the 911 dispatcher and explaining the situation. After answering a few simple questions, I was assured help was on the way.

“Is anything broken?” I asked Mark.

“How would I know?” he growled back. “Do I look like I’m a doctor?”

“No need to snap at me,” I shot back, and then instantly regretted my outburst. He must be in horrific pain. “Does anything feel broken?”

“I hate to think I was in all this pain for a scraped knee.” He closed his eyes and turned his face away from me.

“Why was the door locked?”

“I didn’t want to be interrupted.”

I couldn’t imagine what was so important that he literally had to hide away behind a locked door, but then Mark was nothing if not odd.

He grabbed hold of his thigh with both hands as though he wanted to ease the pain.

“Is it your leg?” I asked.

“Yes.” The word came on a growl, as if my question irritated him more than the pain.

I felt so helpless, at a complete loss as to what more I could do to help him.

“Can I do anything?”

“Leave,” he muttered.

“I’m not going to do that.”

He snorted. “I figured as much.”

We were both silent for a couple of moments before he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Rover. He wouldn’t leave me alone until I got the leash, and the minute we got outside, he all but dragged me here.”

Mark frowned. “How could he have known?”

I couldn’t help but wonder that myself. He really was the most amazing dog. I bet Mark didn’t find him so worthless now.

“Do you have an answer?” Mark asked, gruffly.

“No.”

“Just leave, would you? The aid car will be here soon enough. You’ve done your duty.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I insisted.

“Go,” he shouted.

Mark Taylor was the most unfriendly, unappreciative man I’d ever known. Because he seemed so intent on having me out of his hair, I got up from my knees. Seeing he was in no mood to have me around, I figured I’d walk to the front of the house to check if I could see the aid car.

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