The Inn at Rose Harbor (22 page)

Picking up the empty water glass, Josh carried it into the kitchen, filled it, added ice, and then returned it to the bedroom. He lingered for an extra moment and then obeyed Richard’s wishes and returned to Rose Harbor Inn.

Now it was morning.

Tossing aside the covers, Josh climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. While the spray hit his body he mulled over the events of the previous day, specifically the unexpected twist of emotions he was feeling for Michelle.

He’d never intended to kiss her. A little more than twenty-four hours ago he hadn’t considered her anything more than the girl
who lived next door. Oh, he knew she’d had a huge crush on Dylan, but as Richard had so gleefully pointed out, all the girls had been crazy for Dylan.

Kissing Michelle, wanting her close, finding comfort in her, had come as a shock to him. And yet it’d felt right. And good. She’d fit perfectly in his arms and he wasn’t referring just to the physical aspect of holding her.

Stepping out of the shower, Josh quickly dressed, combed his hair, and headed down the stairs, still mulling about Michelle and where these feelings might take them. Nowhere, he decided. Traveling as much as he did, from one job site to another, didn’t leave room for relationships. His thoughts and his steps were heavy as he came down the staircase, wishing things could be different, and knowing they never would be.

Abby was sitting at the dining room table and glanced up when he entered the room.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

Apparently she was in a much better mood than she’d been the morning before—for that matter so was he.

“Morning,” he answered, returning her smile.

“Coffee?” Jo Marie asked as she stepped into the room, a glass coffeepot in one hand and a pitcher of orange juice in the other.

“Yes to both.”

She deftly filled his mug with coffee and the glass with orange juice.

“I have French toast and scrambled eggs this morning,” she told him.

“And sweet rolls fresh from the bakery,” Abby added. “I made a pig of myself and tasted a little of everything.”

“Just coffee and juice for now.” In the back of his head he could remember his mother insisting that he eat something on his way out the door to school. She’d been a real stickler about that.

“Maybe the eggs, too,” he said, surprising himself. His mother
would be proud. Although most mornings, Josh escaped to the bus stop with little more than a slice of toast or a piece of fruit, she’d tried to get him to eat protein when she could.

Within a matter of minutes Jo Marie returned with a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs. Josh intended to take a couple of bites and make his excuses. He surprised himself by eating everything on the plate. It must be something in the air.

“I’m off,” he said, standing. He started to carry his plate into the kitchen, which was something else his mother had taught him.

Jo Marie stopped him. “I’ll take care of that.”

He set the plate down and was on his way out of the dining room when he realized that he should wish both women a good day. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back this evening.”

“Then I shouldn’t plan on you for dinner, right?” Jo Marie asked.

“Right.” If he did finish before then, he’d eat elsewhere. “Have a good day you two.”

“I will,” Abby returned with a determination that caused him to turn his attention to her.

“Good.” He stuffed his arms into his coat, grabbed his scarf, and left the house, bouncing down the steps. Anyone seeing him, he realized, would think he was eager to get to where he was going. Quite the opposite was true.

He was eager, but not to see Richard. The person who lingered in his mind was Michelle. Again the memory of their kisses returned to plague him.

They hadn’t talked about what had happened between them. Really, what was there to say? Because of everything that was going on with Richard, Josh was already dealing with a number of different emotions. He couldn’t see any reason to further confuse what was already an overly complicated situation.

On the drive over to the house he made a firm decision to say nothing to Michelle regarding those kisses. Hopefully she’d dismiss
them as part of the craziness of the day and that would be the end of it.

But was ignoring the growing attraction between them what he wanted? Josh couldn’t answer that. He was drawn to her; to her commonsense approach to Richard, her emotional maturity, and her gentle ways.

He parked the rental car in front of the house and saw that Michelle had already arrived. He walked up to the porch, knocked once lightly, and then let himself inside.

Michelle walked out from the kitchen to meet him. She answered his question even before he had the chance to ask.

“He’s still sleeping.”

“You’re sure he’s sleeping?” His fear was that Richard would have had the audacity to die during the night, laying a heap of guilt at Josh’s feet for having lost his cool and walking out.

“I thought you said you’d be here this morning,” she said.

“Richard woke up last night and kicked me out.”

“I was afraid that might happen,” she said, shaking her head as though she was disgruntled with herself. “I should have stayed with you.”

“Richard wouldn’t have liked that either. He told me not to come back.”

A soft smile brightened her eyes. “I see you don’t take orders well.”

“Not from him,” he agreed. “I haven’t given up hope of finding my mother’s Bible and her cameo and a few other things I’d like to have that were hers before she married Richard; photos and such.”

“Where do you intend to look?” she asked.

Unfortunately the only place Josh could think to check was the master bedroom. “I still think they must be in there.” He motioned with his head toward the room.

Michelle groaned. “Richard will have a conniption.”

“Tell me about it.” Josh dreaded another confrontation with his stepfather.

“I’ll ask about your mother’s Bible this morning,” Michelle promised.

“Thank you.” He desperately hoped Richard hadn’t purposely destroyed the photos and other memorabilia from his childhood. He reasoned that many of the things he wanted must have been stored after his mother’s death. He was convinced Richard had kept them somewhere close by, and the most logical place was the master bedroom.

Richard wouldn’t have ruined anything that belonged to her because it would have been precious to him. Even the things that also happened to mean something to Josh would be worth keeping intact. At any rate, that was Josh’s hope.

The problem was convincing Richard to tell him where these things were. Josh was fast running out of time to search. A text message had come that morning that his new job was about to start, asking when he would be available.

“What are you thinking?” Michelle asked.

He shook himself from his reverie. “Sorry, I was trying to figure out the best way to handle this. I can’t stay much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“My new job is starting. I’ll need to head out in a couple of days at the latest.”

“That soon?”

He nodded.

“Where?”

“Montana.” He explained that the project involved building a strip mall in Billings.

He saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“I could never live here again,” he said softly, hoping she understood.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” she countered.

“I’m doing what I can for Richard, but I have my own life, too.”

“I understand, Josh, I really do. I guess I just hate the thought of saying good-bye.”

He waited a moment, thinking she might be about to add something.

She stayed silent though, and after a moment he realized he hated the thought of leaving her, too. Necessity demanded that he would, but it would be far more difficult than he would ever have thought possible.

Michelle was beautiful, but he’d known other women who were just as attractive. Still, she was different. Being with her made his heart light up. He enjoyed simply hanging out with her, which said a lot given the circumstances of their time together. Another thing he found attractive about her was that she didn’t feel the need to fill the silences between them. By the same token, he liked that she spoke her mind. But given his job, he didn’t want to toy with her heart when logistically a lasting, meaningful relationship just didn’t make sense.

Abby sat in her car, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She hadn’t left the parking lot of the Rose Harbor Inn yet and already her hands had started to sweat. She’d promised herself she’d do this; promised herself that when and if she ever returned to Cedar Cove, she would visit Angela’s grave. Not once since her dearest friend had been buried had Abby found the nerve to actually go to the cemetery.

It was time. Past time.

This would either make or break the entire trip for her. Abby forced her hands onto the steering wheel and sucked in a deep breath. It was now or never.

What made this extra difficult was that Roger’s wedding was supposed to be a happy time for their family. Just that morning
Abby had told Jo Marie she’d have done anything to avoid returning to Cedar Cove, and that was true.

This was the reason. Years ago she’d promised herself she’d never be back. Because when she returned she would have to go see Angela. Then good ole Roger had chosen to get married in their hometown. It felt as if God was forcing her to confront the past.

In a flash, Abby was eighteen all over again. It was Christmas break and she was dying to see her best friend. It’d been torture not to tell Angela about meeting Steve. She’d been so crazy about him. It embarrassed her now to think of the horrible way she’d treated him following the accident.

Abby remembered that she hadn’t been home an hour before Angela phoned. Christmas was just three days away and Angela hadn’t done a lick of shopping. Abby agreed to drive her to the mall. Her dad said she could use his car and that the gas tank was full. He’d warned her on her way out the door to watch for black ice.

They’d had a blast that night; shopping, laughing until they were almost sick, trying on clothes. Abby and Angela had been sisters of the heart, born only a few weeks apart. They’d done everything together from the time they were in junior high; it wasn’t unusual for them to spend the entire weekend together, barely managing to sleep, staying up all night.

After shopping that night they ate dinner at Red Robin, their favorite haunt, sharing a burger and fries. While they were inside the restaurant, it’d started to snow. Thick, fat flakes that fell from the sky, creating the most beautiful, picturesque scene imaginable. This was Christmas as it was always meant to be. A perfect Northwest Christmas.

Abby called home before they headed out from Silverdale.

“Drive carefully,” her father cautioned her a second time.

Abby had been careful. So very careful. Or so she’d thought. But instead of arriving home with gifts to give her family, instead
of decorating sugar cookies with her mother and brother, instead of enjoying the holiday, Angela had died that night on a road just outside Cedar Cove.

Abby was never entirely sure how it had happened. She remembered that they’d been singing a Christmas carol along with the radio, and making plans for all the things they wanted to do while on break from school. Angela had teased her about Steve and insisted she wanted to be the maid of honor at their wedding. As if Abby could imagine asking anyone else! They’d made plans for a ski trip between Christmas and New Year’s, and Abby had promised that she would ask Steve to join them so that Angela could meet him. Naturally there would be a get-together with their friends, shopping in Seattle, a movie. Maybe even two. They each had one they were anxious to see.

And while they were chattering like birds on a telephone wire, laughing and singing, Abby had hit a patch of ice.

The car spun out of control, flipping over and over and over. Angela had screamed … or maybe that was her, Abby couldn’t remember. What did stick in her mind was the sheer terror she’d felt as the vehicle started to roll.

When Abby had awoken, she was in the hospital and her mother was standing over her, eyes red and swollen from crying. Her father and brother were there, too, looking so … sad.

“You’re going to be all right,” her mother had whispered, gripping hold of her hand with both of her own.

Abby’s mouth felt dry and the pain nearly blinded her. “Angela?” she’d managed to whisper her friend’s name. This stupid accident was going to ruin their school break and all the plans they’d made.

That was when her mother started to sob for real; heart-wrenching sobs that tore at Abby’s heart. Was Angela badly hurt? Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? Instead of answering her questions, Abby’s mother had covered her face with both hands and turned away.

Abby rolled her head and looked up at her father. He gently took hold of her arm. He, too, she recalled with vivid clarity, had had tears in his eyes. In all her life Abby couldn’t remember ever seeing her father cry. He did that night.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he managed in a broken whisper. “Angela was declared dead at the scene of the accident.”

Angela dead?

No.

This couldn’t be right.

How could Angela be dead when just an hour or two earlier they’d been singing Christmas songs and making plans for the holidays? It made no sense. Abby couldn’t imagine a world without Angela in it. Her mind refused to accept what her father had told her.

Angela’s funeral was held December 27. That horrible day would forever remain in Abby’s memory. Both of her legs had been broken, plus three ribs, but she’d insisted on attending the funeral. Respecting her wishes, her father had gotten permission from her doctor and borrowed a wheelchair. It was the first time Abby would see Angela’s parents following the accident. She was terrified to face them, but she knew she had to somehow tell them how sorry she was, how she’d do anything to turn back the clock.

Instead, Angela’s mother had gone berserk. As soon as Abby entered the church, Angela’s mother had stood up, her red and swollen eyes making her look like a madwoman, and had called her a murderer. She screamed at Abby to leave. Nothing would console Charlene White. Not her husband, not the funeral director, not the priest who was about to say the funeral mass. Abby had been forced to leave—there was no other option.