Rose Harbor in Bloom (23 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Rose Harbor in Bloom
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“Oh, Mary.”

“I know. Their letter was filled with gratitude and love. I had every assurance I would need that Amanda would be deeply loved and that the family would provide for her emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. They’re good people, George. I chose well.”

“Have you heard from the family since that time?”

Mary heard the hopeful tone in his voice. “No. Not once. It was the way I wanted it, for Amanda’s sake as well as my own.”

“And everything went along smoothly after that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Until the cancer,” he added.

“Until the cancer,” she confirmed.

George knelt down in front of her. His arms circled Mary’s waist and held her close to his heart. For a long time they clung to each other.

Neither of them spoke.

George broke the silence, straightened, and pressed his hand against the side of her face. His eyes were warm and gentle, filled with love.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Mary had anticipated disappointment, even anger. His gratitude took her by surprise. “For what?” she asked. She had rejected his love and marriage proposal, and left him. He had every reason to detest her.

“For giving my baby life.”

“Oh, George.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him.

When they broke apart, she wiped the moisture from his cheeks and then smiled as he did the same for her.

Mary was tempted, so very tempted, to tell him the rest.

But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Chapter 21

I enjoyed seeing Peggy and Corrie. I waved them off and then sat for a short while on the step, enjoying the sunshine.

Rover lay down in the grass for a while before chasing after a butterfly. I kept a close eye on him, but he seemed to understand that this was his home and where he belonged. Whenever I let him outside, he never ventured far. I suppose I should count myself lucky that he was this well behaved. It made me wonder if he’d been trained by someone … someone who missed him and was concerned about what had happened to him. Perhaps one day I’d have the answer to those questions, but for now, I was happy to have him with me.

The mail was delivered, and I decided to check it when I finished setting a few flower pots about the area where one day my rose garden would be.

Afterward I walked down to the mailbox. The majority of the mail was advertisements, an assortment of bills, and a magazine. Only one envelope was hand addressed, and it looked to be a formal announcement. I tore it open and saw that my guess was right. It was a wedding invitation. As soon as I read the names, I smiled.

It was from Abby Kincaid. Abby was one of my very first guests who’d come to stay shortly after I took over the inn in January. She’d arrived for her brother’s wedding and seemed withdrawn, reticent, and decidedly uncomfortable. Soon afterward I learned she had been behind the wheel when her best friend, Angela, had been killed in a car accident the year they were college freshmen. From that moment forward, Abby’s entire life had been placed on hold. It was as if she’d lived in limbo, avoiding all contact with friends and classmates.

What made this wedding invitation so wonderful was the fact that it confirmed what Paul had told me soon after I moved into the inn. This bed-and-breakfast would be a place of healing, for me and for those who came to stay.

For Abby, returning to Cedar Cove for her brother’s wedding had set everything that had happened to her since into motion. The last place on earth she’d ever wanted to be again was this town, fearing whom she’d see. Perhaps even worse was being forced to confront the memories of that horrible winter’s night when Angela had died.

“Rover, oh, Rover,” I said, in my excitement, “look. Abby and Steve Hooks are to be married.”

Rover, who rested next to me on the top step, cocked his head to one side and regarded me quizzically.

“This is wonderful news. Don’t you remember her?” It was a silly question, because clearly he didn’t have a clue who or what I was talking about. The news was too good to keep to myself.

Leaping up, I hurried into the house, set the mail down on my
desk, and reached for the phone. I could think of only one person to tell.

Mark answered almost right away.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“I was just fine until my nap got interrupted. I hate taking these damn pain pills. They put me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I woke you?” I asked, feeling guilty.

“You didn’t, the phone did. What’s up?” he asked.

“I heard from Abby Kincaid.”

“Who?”

“Abby. She was one of my first two houseguests back in January.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember her. Real quiet … was in town for her brother’s wedding, right?”

“Right. I received a wedding invitation from her in today’s mail.” I was more than a bit reluctant to share this news with him, seeing what a grump he was.

“Nice,” he said, surprising me. “Is it the guy she met at her brother’s wedding? Wasn’t he her brother’s old college roommate?”

How he knew about that I could only speculate. “Yes. How’d you know?”

“How do I know anything? You told me.”

“When?” I certainly didn’t remember saying anything about Abby and Steve.

“I don’t know, but how else would I know?”

Good question. I must have said something, but I certainly didn’t remember.

“What about Josh and Michelle? Do you ever hear anything from them?” Josh had been at the inn at the same time as Abby. Abby and Josh had been my very first guests.

I hadn’t. “I saw Michelle in the grocery store not long ago, but it was only in passing.”

“They’ll get married,” Mark said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, and what makes you such an expert on matters of the heart?”

He chuckled.

Actual amusement from Mark? Now, that was a switch. The sound took me by surprise, and it was all I could do not to laugh myself.

“The two of them had the look,” Mark explained.

“The look?”

“Didn’t Josh stay on a couple of extra days from what he’d originally planned?”

“He did.” I had no idea Mark would be so detail oriented when it came to people.

“Thought so.”

“It was because of his stepfather, remember? Richard died, and Josh felt obligated to settle Richard’s affairs.”

“That’s the excuse he used. He stayed because of Michelle.”

“You chatted with him, and he spilled out his heart to you?” If ever there was a joke, this was it. Neither Mark nor Josh was the type to discuss their personal lives.

“In a manner of speaking, you could say so.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe what you want,” he said. “Can I get back to my nap now?”

“By all means.” I was ready to hang up the phone when he stopped me.

“Jo Marie.”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you’ll overlook me being cranky. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

“You’re excused,” I said, making light of his bad mood. He was worried that I’d taken offense. It surprised me.

“It’s these stupid pills.”

“Of course it is,” I joked. “If it wasn’t for the medication, you’d be a regular Marvin Sunshine.”

He chuckled. “I take it that’s a bit of sarcasm.”

“Just a tad,” I said with a smile.

“Listen, I’ll do my best to get working on your rose garden as soon as I get out of this cast.”

“I know.” And I appreciated that he remained concerned about the job. “I’ll stop by later this evening and bring you dinner.”

“No need. I’ve got peanut butter and jelly.”

“I’ll bring you a real dinner,” I insisted.

“Peanut butter is real food.”

“Right,” I agreed, knowing it would do no good to argue with him. “I’ll be by sometime after six.”

He sighed as if he was far too weary to fight me. “Okay, I give in. Do whatever suits you.”

Shaking my head, I docked the phone and picked up Abby’s wedding invitation, reading it a second time. The wedding was scheduled for August and would take place in Florida. I brewed myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the small kitchen table.

I remembered the day Abby and I had talked and she’d told me about the car accident that had claimed her best friend’s life. The car crash had basically robbed Abby of her future. She’d been dating Steve Hooks at the time and had broken it off with him, partially out of guilt and partially out of a sense of unworthiness. It didn’t seem right to her that she should be happy, should fall in love and continue on with her own life when Angela was dead.

The doorbell rang, and Rover barked and rushed to the front door. It was the woman who lived next door. A real sweetheart, Mrs. Coryelle had to be close to eighty. I’d chatted with her daughter several times and had gone to check on the older woman now and again.

“Mrs. Coryelle, come in, please.” It was rare for her to venture to my house.

“No, no, I need to get back. One of those cable channels is running an all-day marathon of my favorite TV show and I don’t want to miss any of that.” She grinned, scratching the side of her head. “I’ve seen them all before, I know, but for the life of me I can’t remember how they end. Best part of my failing memory is being able to enjoy things again as if it’s the first time.”

“What can I do for you?” I asked. Surely she hadn’t made the walk to tell me about television reruns.

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot,” she said, laughing softly. “The mailman put this envelope in my box, but it’s addressed to you.” She removed it from her pocket and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, and scanned the return address. It wasn’t a name I recognized at first glance, so I set it aside, more concerned about my elderly neighbor than opening the letter.

“Let me walk back with you,” I said.

“No need.”

“I insist, and so does Rover.” I stepped onto the porch, and Rover immediately followed me. It didn’t take me long to walk the short distance between our houses. Mrs. Coryelle was a talkative one, and she filled me in on the television marathon, mentioning her favorite characters as if they were her personal friends. She was particularly enamored with Mark Harmon, who played the lead, chatting on and on about him and what a fine-looking man he was. “I might be eighty-three, but I recognize a handsome man when I see one.”

“So do I,” I returned, remembering how attracted I was to Paul the first time we met.

Once I saw her inside her home, Rover and I made our way back to the inn. I hadn’t finished everything I’d hoped in preparation for the open house. In retrospect, I wished I’d delayed mailing
out the invitations and had waited until the inn was in the shape I envisioned. I probably would have canceled if several Chamber members hadn’t already mentioned how they were looking forward to touring Rose Harbor Inn.

By the time I returned to the house, I’d nearly forgotten the letter. It was Rover who reminded me. He parked himself by the entryway table and barked. It took me a moment to realize what he wanted.

“Oops, you’re right, the letter.” I said. Thankfully, his memory was a bit longer than mine.

I reached for the envelope and carried it into the kitchen with me, setting it on the tabletop. Because Rover seemed so curious, I sat down and opened it. It was a couple of pages long, with a note attached.

Dear Jo Marie
,

Forgive me. Paul asked me to give you this letter if anything were to happen to him while he was in Afghanistan. I’ve had it all this time and simply forgot about it. I know it’s probably hitting you out of the blue, and for that I apologize
.

An illegible name was scribbled at the bottom of the page.

Turning aside the first page, I found a single sheet, a letter addressed to me in my husband’s handwriting.

The letter was from Paul.

Chapter 22

Sun poured in over the waterfront gazebo as Annie’s grandparents stood holding hands and facing each other as they prepared to renew their wedding vows. Father Donovan looked out over the small gathering and opened his prayer book.

One of Annie’s biggest concerns about this anniversary celebration had been the weather. Although she’d never gotten the story straight on exactly where her grandfather had proposed, Annie had gone with her grandmother’s version. Even if her grandfather insisted he’d popped the question during a Saturday matinee, the waterfront scene was far more picturesque and practical than renewing their vows in the parking lot at the movie theater.

Kent and Julie were surrounded by their closest friends and immediate family. Annie’s mother and father, plus her aunt Patty and
uncle Norman, stood in a semicircle around the anniversary couple. Annie and her cousins, along with their young families, were the outer edge.

Oliver stood next to her. She tried to ignore him, but that wasn’t as easily accomplished as she would have liked.

The elderly priest looked up from his Bible and smiled at the small gathering. His gaze then rested on Annie’s grandparents.

“Kent and Julie, the two of you are prime examples of what it means to love and cherish each other.”

Julie turned and looked deep into her husband’s eyes. Kent looked back, and Annie’s breath caught. Even now she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her grandfather started grumbling. Instead, she saw love radiating from him to his wife of the last fifty years. All he seemed to be able to see was Julie, and the love they had shared appeared to touch all who had gathered for this special moment.

The pastor’s words were lost on Annie. Frozen, she watched as her grandmother’s lips moved, repeating the vows with such heartfelt meaning that her eyes clouded with tears.

Tears sprang to Annie’s eyes, too. It was then that she felt Oliver reach for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and giving her a gentle squeeze. She wanted to jerk her hand free but discovered she couldn’t make herself do it. He stood close, too close for her to be comfortable. Instead of stepping aside, the way she wanted, Annie remained exactly where she was. The citrus scent of his aftershave reminded her of oranges and lemons, and of the lazy summer night when she’d gazed up at the night sky with him close to her side on the blanket.

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