by JoAnn Ross
“What if you used more to cover it better the first time?”
“Then it could float off the boat. This is just to attach it. The next coats will start filling in the weave.”
“How many?”
“I like three on the hull. Two inside. Larger boats you might want more.”
They worked in companionable silence for the next hour. She caught on quickly enough that he’d given her her own squeegee.
“You did great,” he said once they’d finished. “You’re a lot more diligent than I was at your age. And I’d been hanging around the shop for a few years by then.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He pulled off his gloves. “And, for future reference, I never say anything I don’t mean.”
A soft pink colored her cheeks as she followed suit, taking off hers. Then she looked down at the chalked plan. “Can girls ever be boat builders?”
“No reason why not. Come with me.”
He led her over to the boat-building school office, where the walls were lined with photographs of boats and their builders. “See this one?”
She studied it. “That’s you. And some lady.”
“Not just any lady. That’s Mary Brice, from Maryland, who came here as a guest teacher the year before I went to college. She taught me how to make that Northeaster Dory, which I sold to a surgeon from Seattle to help pay for college.”
“That’s kind of sad. That you had to sell it. It’s really pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“But it’s epic that a woman taught you.”
“She’s famous in boat circles,” he said. “Her family has been shipwrights going back to colonial days. So, to answer your question, yes, women can most definitely be professional boat builders.”
“I still want to be a writer when I grow up,” she said. “But maybe I could make boats between writing books.”
“Sounds like a plan. Like me building this one during a break from work.”
“Before you go back to New York.”
“Yep.” It was important that everyone remember this visit was temporary. He and Chelsea had been walking a tightrope with the girls from the beginning. Chelsea appeared to have come up with a plan for herself, while he felt as if he were now blindfolded on that tightrope, over a bunch of alligators while juggling flaming torches. “Are you hungry?”
“A little.” He’d noticed she’d begun to eat more than she had when she’d first arrived at the house and wondered if that was due to no longer being flooded with the stress hormones he’d read about in that anxiety booklet.
“What would you say to a burger at my brother’s pub?”
“Don’t we need to put on the second coat?”
“It needs to set up enough to be tacky, which gives us plenty of time for lunch.”
“I’m not sure Mrs. Douglas would approve of me going in a bar.”
“It’s not that kind of pub. It’s a restaurant that also serves beer my older brother makes.”
“Your brother makes beer?”
“Yeah. And it’s really good.”
“Cool.”
“Quinn is definitely cool. And he has this cook who’d probably love to tell you more about Vikings and faerings. It was his idea I build this one.”
“Okay.” Her casual tone and slight shrug belied the light that had brightened her eyes again. It also tore a hole in his heart.
“Quinn used to be a lawyer,” Gabe said casually as they drove to the pub. “In Seattle. A couple years ago he came back home and fixed up a building that had housed our ancestors’ pub. It’d been in the family going back into the 1800s, but got shut down during prohibition, and they never started it back up. Prohibition was a short time when it was illegal to drink alcohol.”
“That could’ve been a good thing,” she murmured. Remembering how her parents had died, Gabe decided not to give her a little history lesson about most of the country flaunting the law. “Your family has really lived here since the 1800s?”
“Yep. Another ancestor’s name is on the cornerstone of the courthouse. He was mayor at the time it was built and one of the Harpers—Seth Harper is marrying my sister, Brianna, this summer—built it.”
“That’s epic, that your family has lived here so long. Why did you leave?”
“It’s complicated.” How to explain he wanted to make a lot of money to an adolescent girl who carried her clothing around in a black garbage bag? And what message did that bag give the kids about their self-worth? Gabe had a feeling that Hannah was, in great part, responsible for her sister’s apparent belief that she could do anything. Even sit on a cloud.
“Mostly,” he said, as he realized she was waiting for an answer, “I had other things I wanted to do. Things I couldn’t do in a town this size.”
“I like the size of this town. If I could, I’d live here forever.”
What she had no way of knowing—yet—was that if Chelsea had her way, that could well become a reality.
* * *
“SO,” LILY ASKED over a Mediterranean mezze platter at Leaf, “how’s living with Gabriel Mannion going?
“I’m not living with him. He’s staying in the housekeeper’s cabin.”
“Sure he is. That’s why you’ve been glowing lately. Either Jolene has created the most amazing skin care product ever, or you’ve been having dynamite sex on a regular basis.”
“The latter,” Chelsea agreed. “But although we’ve been very careful and discreet, I’m not sure Mrs. Douglas would approve.”
“She’d probably be envious,” Lily said as she spread some roasted red pepper hummus on a torn piece of pita bread. “But one look at you and she’ll probably know anyway.”
Chelsea’s hands rose to her cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“Honestly, not to someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do,” her friend reassured her. “I was just kidding. But it appears you decided to go for the fling.”
“More a summer romance,” Chelsea said quietly.
“Oh, hell.” Lily pointed the knife across the table. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“A little.”
Lily folded her arms. Waited.
“Okay, more than a little. A lot. But it doesn’t mean anything, because he’s been very clear that he’s not looking for a long-term relationship.”
“That could change.”
“No, it couldn’t. It’s obvious that his place is in New York. And my place is here.”
“Having lived in Manhattan during a brief Madison Avenue gig I decided didn’t suit me, I can’t argue that,” Lily agreed. “You could try a long-distance relationship.”
“Taking in the time it takes to get to Sea-Tac, it’s at least a nine-plus-hour trip from here to JFK. And that’s before the cab ride into Manhattan.”
“Interesting that you researched that. And the trip from the airport would be at least forty-five minutes on a good day. Though you could always take the train, then AirTrans.”
“And undoubtedly get lost and end up in Maine.” She squeezed lemon over a dolma made with rice, onion, currants, pine nuts, parsley and mint beautifully rolled up in a grape leaf. “Besides, he works impossibly long days. A hundred-hour week. He wouldn’t have any time to play tour guide.”
“There are professionals who do that,” Lily said. “And lots of double-decker buses that are admittedly touristy, but then again, you’d be a tourist. However, I doubt walking all over the city is what the man would have on his mind if you did go there.”
“It’s a moot point because if I become a permanent foster mother for Hannah and Hailey, there’s no way I’d leave them. At least not until we’re all settled in and they feel secure.”
“He could come here.”
“That wouldn’t make the trip any shorter. By the time he
got here, he’d have to turn around and fly back.” She hadn’t found his abbreviated Christmas visit idea at all encouraging to any future. “Plus, he hasn’t come home to see his family for ages. The man even missed his own sister’s engagement party, for Pete’s sake.”
“There is that,” Lily agreed.
“I’ve almost decided he’s a bit like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” She stabbed a kalamata olive with the small fork. The olive’s brine was as sharp as her disappointment that there was another side of Gabriel Mannion she’d probably never reach.
“Oh? How? Don’t tell me he’s violent—”
“Oh, no!” Chelsea almost choked on that idea. “It’s just that he’s so caring with others, like bringing me soup, which admittedly could have been a seduction ploy, but not only did he offer his house on the spot so the girls could stay together, he’s been marvelous with them. He listens to Hailey’s long monologues about dragons, and seemingly every other topic under the sun that flits through her active mind. He’s been teaching Hannah chess, and, as we sit here eating lunch, they’re at the boat shop where he’s letting her work on the faering.”
“Get out. You had to promise none of the adventurers would so much as touch it to get him to agree to them visiting.”
“True. But that’s changed for her, which could also be a problem when he leaves, but for now, I’m taking my blessings where I find them. You should’ve seen her face when they left for the shop. She could’ve lit up this town for a month.”
“If this is the Mr. Hyde part, you need to reread that book.”
“No, it’s the good, Dr. Jekyll part.” After studying the platter that looked as if it should be hanging in Michael Mannion’s gallery, she chose a cherry tomato, mozzarella cheese and basil leaf skewer. “The bad part is that he’s so fixated on making money. I’ll bet he even thinks about it while sanding that boat.”
“Did you ever think he might be using that boat not to think about work?”
“I suppose that’s a possibility. But I really believe profit is his default.”
“Like the library is yours? And changing the topic for a moment, this tabbouleh salad is delicious. As good as any I had during my six months in Greece.”
“Touché about the library,” Chelsea said. “And is there anywhere you haven’t lived?”
“There are a bunch of places on my bucket list. But I’m happy here for now. So, your main problem with Gabe, when you get right down to it, appears that he’s über rich.”
“That’s simplistic, but I guess so.”
“I’m rich. In fact, to paraphrase my accountant, I’m loaded. And, unlike Gabriel Manning, I lucked out with having a bunch of ancestors make it for me.”
“I know. But you’re so normal, I forget about that.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Besides, although you could be living a party girl life, jetting around the world and hanging out on yachts, you work full-time at the college. You also volunteer at the library, you read to the seniors at Harbor Hill and you deliver food for Meals on Wheels.”
“I like to keep busy,” Lily said mildly. “Plus, Gabriel is philanthropic. Sure, he expects to make a profit from his investment in Jolene’s skin care business, but she told me that the deal was so generous, she should be able to buy him out within the next five years. And you can’t discount the children’s book club plan.”
“No, that’s a huge thing,” Chelsea agreed.
“Then there’s the scholarships, not to mention—”
“Scholarships?”
Lily was suddenly paying a great deal of interest to the char-grilled slice of eggplant on her plate. “Forget it, that was a slip. Besides, since the two of you have obviously gotten so close, I’d have guessed he’d told you.”
“You guessed wrong.”
“I promised him confidentiality.”
“You’re my best friend. Plus, you’ve already let it slip, and you know I’m not going to immediately post it on Facebook.”
“Okay.” Lily sighed, then took a drink of the cucumber-flavored water. “Gabe gave a generous amount of scholarship funds to the college. More than twice what the foundation gets from all other sources combined in an entire year.”
“That’s impressive.”
“True. But he did it through an LLC to keep it anonymous.”
“Which it still will be,” Chelsea assured her.
“Thanks. He’s not our only anonymous donor, so I’d hate for word to get around that I let this slip or others might be less willing to contribute. Anyway, since I’m already in this deep, I’ll admit I got a little curious and looked up the LLC’s holdings.”
“And?”
“It seems to exist solely to fund a foundation that makes lots of donations around the country, including clean water projects and school funding on reservations. He also funded that new pediatric trauma wing at the hospital years ago after Mrs. Henderson’s son died due to the peninsula not having one. If all that weren’t enough, he gave a computer to every kid in the Salish County school system who can’t afford to have one at home. With funding to continue in perpetuity.”
“Gabriel did all that?” The hospital wing, she considered, certainly hadn’t been named after him. Which, she decided, was because ego had never been the reason for his generosity.
“He did. And that’s just what I could find with a public search. I imagine if I dug deeper, I probably could’ve unearthed more.”
“We have talked about his money,” Chelsea allowed. “Making it appears to be his superpower.”
“One he apparently uses for good.”
It didn’t matter, Chelsea reminded herself. Gabriel might be The One. But what Lily had just told her was even more evidence that he wasn’t the Forever-After One who’d settle down in Honeymoon Harbor and build a life and family the way his parents had. But perhaps with fewer children than the Mannion five. He was The One for Right Now. She’d known that going in and since he’d proven a man of his word about everything else, there was no reason to believe he wasn’t leaving on that ferry after the Labor Day fireworks had died out.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t recovered from much greater loss. As Lily returned to the college, and she returned to the library, Chelsea reminded herself that the smart thing to do was treat Gabriel like a Pacific Northwest summer. Savor the short season to the fullest while it was here, then enjoy the memories made in those sun-filled days through Washington’s long, gray winter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“IT’S AS IF the days are flying by on wings,” Chelsea complained five days later as she sat out on the deck with Gabe after the girls had gone to bed.
“Probably because they’ve been so busy. You’re going to have to see Hannah with Jarle. I think he’s replaced me as her favorite man in town.” Which Gabe didn’t mind in the least. She also had, no surprise there, hit it off with Quinn, so it wouldn’t be as if he was abandoning her come September.
“I hope he’s keeping it clean.”
“He’s been the soul of discretion.”
“Maybe I will have him talk to the adventurers, then” she mused.
During the past days she’d gone to work, while Hannah, who decided to opt out of the day camp idea, split time between the boat shop and the library. Hailey was spending mornings at the camp, where she’d, unsurprisingly, already gained a number of friends. Afternoons Gabe would take her out to the farm, where, from all accounts, she was having a wonderful time with his folks. His dad had taught her how to shape a Christmas tree, his mother had her playing with fabrics and paint chips and creating color palettes with crayons, she’d baked a pie with his grandmother, and his grandad had even taught her to fish on the creek running through their property.
Hannah had not appeared the least bit impressed that her little sister had touched a worm. Not that it slowed down the
younger girl’s minute-by-minute report on her day.
After spending this morning at the boat shop, Hannah had gone to the library, where she’d helped the volunteers put the finishing touches on the library’s Fourth of July parade float.
Although he’d taken this house to be out here on his own, Gabe was getting a kick out of the girls and Chelsea had definitely made his evening deck time much more enjoyable. Of course, the best thing, hands down, was working their way through the list every night.
“I don’t understand how Realtors make a living in this town,” Chelsea said, as he was pondering the idea of buying a motorhome so they could check off that box. “There’s nothing on the market.”
“That’s because developers are only building vacation rentals. And a lot of people are taking campers and motorhomes over to the coast and renting out their houses for the summer.”
“Well, that’s just wrong,” she muttered.
“It’s business.”
“Like dollars are worth more than two little girls finding a home?”
He’d never seen her seethe until tonight. Which made him glad that she hadn’t seemed to spend a great deal of time considering what, exactly, he did for a living. Which entailed making more money for people who might already have a dozen homes, all like this one or larger, scattered around the world and private planes to jet between them.
“I’m going to buy this one,” he said. “And since I have no intention of playing landlord, even through some property management company, it’s going to stay empty.”
She glanced over at him. “Then why are you buying it?”
“For the investment.”
It hadn’t sounded that crass when he’d told Aiden about his plan. She fell silent as she appeared to take a serious interest in the sky filled with stars overhead. You sure as hell never saw stars like this in the city. Then again, the only bright lights in Honeymoon Harbor were from the lighthouse and the green and red lights on the buoys. Trade-offs, he considered.
“We studied stars in the sixth grade,” he broke the chilly silence. “But I’ve never been able to see the different constellations at night.”