by Susan Wiggs
During their interview for the exposé, Becky had asked Caroline how it felt to bring him down. “I didn’t bring him down,” Caroline was quoted as saying. “The truth brought him down.” It felt strange, seeing her own words framed as a pull quote on the page.
“It’s an exoneration for you,” Will pointed out as he finished reading the article.
“I don’t care about being exonerated,” Caroline said. “I just want to be done. I just want to move on with my life, be a mom to these kids and try to get my business back on its feet.”
He set her coffee mug on the nightstand and folded the paper. “And I just want to marry you,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
She pushed back and gaped at him. “Stop it.”
“Not exactly the answer I’m hoping for.”
“Will.” She studied his face, every line and angle and plane familiar and beloved and longed for. “Don’t you dare kid around.”
“Me? A kidder?” He touched his hand to his heart. “Caroline Shelby, I love everything about you. The way you laugh at my stupid jokes and the way you cry when something touches your heart. The way you talk all the time without stopping and still manage to listen. The way you create designs out of nothing but imagination. The way you take joy in Addie and Flick even though you say you’re scared. You’re all I think about. You’re everything I want. You and your kids and your little dog, too. And sweet Jesus, I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
Her own heart nearly exploded. She was too overwhelmed to speak. If she said yes, it would change the course of her life. She pictured herself here at Water’s Edge, in this house that was filled with hand-carved woodwork and ancient family treasures. She pictured Addie and Flick playing with the dogs, following Will around, finding the adventures that awaited them in the woods, the bay and the seashore, the lighthouses and little villages strung along the peninsula.
She pictured forever with him. The wild excitement felt like a panic attack.
“You’re not saying anything,” he pointed out.
“Give me a minute, okay?”
“Yes, sure.” He let go of her and opened the top drawer of his nightstand. “Just so you know, I have a ring.”
“What?” She couldn’t breathe.
He opened a small box, revealing a band of figured gold set with a square-cut diamond. “It was my grandmother’s,” he said. “I’ve been saving it for you.”
Once again, she was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She couldn’t speak, nor could she take her eyes off him as she took in the moment, heartbeat by heartbeat. He was the person who had defined love for her, decades before, when she was too young to understand its power. It was the best feeling in the world, raw and powerful, beautiful and devastating, a rush of blood to the head. He had unknowingly set the standard for what she understood love was supposed to be like.
Every relationship she’d had afterward was measured against the love she imagined she would have had with Will—if only. She knew she was idealizing something that had never existed. If it had actually happened, life would have interfered. It might not have lasted. It might have worn thin.
“Caroline?” A crease appeared on his brow. “If the ring’s too old-fashioned, I could—”
“Hush,” she managed to say. “The ring is perfect.” She’d barely glanced at it. “Just listen. There’s something I need to tell you.” She took both his hands between both of hers. “Will Jensen, I’ve loved you for as long as life. I didn’t even know how to talk about love until I talked to you. I was thirteen years old when I fell in love with you. It was the truest love I’d ever felt. I’ve been waiting for this day since I first laid eyes on you. But I never thought it was meant to be. So I’ve spent half my life teaching myself not to love you. Not to want something I could never have.”
“That was then. Everything’s different now. This is about you, Caroline. You and me. And if I’m not mistaken, you just admitted you’re in love with me.”
“Since the beginning of time.”
Somehow the ring slipped onto her finger. And Will asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was afraid. I didn’t know if I could—if we could go from being friends to being a couple.”
“Yeah?” He gently traced his finger along her collarbone, following it with his lips. “We’re doing okay in that department.”
She could barely think straight when he touched her like this. “Uh-huh . . .”
“So now?”
“Oh, Will. Now it’s all yes. Yes to all of this. Forever yes.”
Epilogue
“The flower girl is missing.”
Georgia’s worried statement cut through the babble in the bride’s getting-ready room adjacent to the restaurant.
Caroline swiveled around on her stool at the vanity, dropping an eyelash curler and probably creating a dark smudge across her cheek. “What? Where’s Addie? How could she be missing?”
“I don’t know—maybe with a hundred wedding guests arriving in the pouring rain, she wandered away and no one noticed.”
“Oh my gosh, Addie.” Caroline rushed for the door.
Georgia planted herself in the doorway. “Oh no you don’t. I’ve got a search party looking for her right now. You need to finish getting ready.”
“I can’t even finish breathing until I know where Addie went. What if she wanders out into traffic? Is she lost in the dunes? On the beach, for chrissake? What if she’s wet and scared somewhere?”
Virginia raised the window blind and gestured out at the parking lot. “It’s like a dragnet out there. Look at them all.”
The tux-clad brothers and ushers fanned out across the parking lot in all directions. The raised black umbrellas looked like a Magritte painting. A vast white pavilion was set up in the event area of Star of the Sea, sheltering the rows of chairs from the thick drizzle that persisted as the guests arrived for the ceremony.
“She’s probably at the banquet table, sampling the wedding cake,” Virginia added.
Georgia brought Caroline back to the vanity. “Sit,” she commanded. “Let Ilsa do her thing.”
Ilsa had a deft hand with makeup. And with Caroline as well. Instead of attacking her with foundation and highlighter, she took Caroline’s hands. “Breathe,” she said. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Fern, get over here,” Virginia said. “I need to do your hair.”
Caroline’s niece could barely sit still. She spun around on a stool. “You look like a princess, Aunt Caroline. A legit princess.”
Caroline’s gown was dead simple—a gorgeous swath of watered silk that spilled from a stylized nautilus shell cutaway in back. The design was her own, but it had been constructed and sewn by Echo Sanders, now one of her best friends.
“Found her,” Will called from the doorway. He held Addie in his arms. Flick stood beside him. “She was in the back seat of the car, sound asleep.” He placed a kiss on the little girl’s nose. “Just like you were the first time I saw you.”
“Don’t look at the bride,” Fern shrieked. “It’s bad luck if you see the bride!”
“Not looking,” Will said, handing Addie to Georgia.
Caroline looked, though, and she nearly melted with love for him. He looked like every dream she’d ever had of the man she adored, and she couldn’t wait to be his wife.
Watching Will leave the room, Addie clutched her doll and yawned. “I needed to find Wonder Woman,” she said.
“That was a dumb thing to do,” Flick said.
“Hey,” Caroline warned.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. He was growing so tall and confident. Today, in his tux and suspenders, he was beyond cute.
“Come here, you two,” she said, opening her arms to them. “I have something for each of us.” She took out Angelique’s cowrie shell bracelet. She’d carefully separated the triple strands to make three bracelets. “Your mama gave me these on a very important day. They’re made of shells from th
e beach in Haiti. She used to make them to sell when she was a little girl. We can each wear one to remind us of your mother and how much we love and miss her.” She fastened one bracelet on each of them.
Then she gathered the children in for a hug. Thank you, Angelique. She sent the thought out into the universe. Thank you.
“She’ll never leave us,” she whispered. “She lives in our hearts, okay?”
“That makes me sad,” Addie said, examining the bean-shaped shells of her bracelet. “This is supposed to be a happy day.”
“It sure is,” Caroline said. “If you see people crying, like Grammy Dot or me or . . . just anyone, it’s because we’re really happy.” With that, she looked around the room, strewn with makeup and hair products and bouquets and filled with women who meant the world to her—not just her sisters and mother, but the friends she’d made in the Oysterville Sewing Circle. They had all played a part in her journey. Even Sierra had reached out in a conciliatory gesture. There was a card from her, mailed from Sharm El Sheikh. Her name now appeared on the masthead of a major fashion magazine.
Georgia bustled over and took charge of them both, shepherding them to their places. The music swelled, and each member of the wedding party went down the aisle. Will and Willow, who was the officiant, waited under a driftwood arch.
Then Caroline found herself completely alone for a moment, about to take the biggest step of her life. She dwelled on all the things that had brought her to this moment—the devastating losses and dizzying triumphs and everything in between.
She didn’t hurry down the aisle but paced herself. She wanted to take in the warmth of the smiling faces turned in her direction. She felt so connected here, in a way she never had before, with the family she’d created in the aftermath of tragedy, the friends she’d made by reaching out and opening her heart.
She made her way to the end of the aisle and stood before Will. The whole world was in his face.
The music trailed softly away. A waiting silence descended. Will took both of Caroline’s hands in his.
Willow looked from one to the other. “Shall we begin?”
Author’s Note
Although this is a work of fiction, the issue of domestic violence is entirely real, and it can happen to anyone, regardless of age, gender, race, level of education, or income. I will be donating a portion of the proceeds from my royalties from this book to a nonprofit in my home county that provides safe, supportive, longer-term affordable housing for survivors of domestic violence.
If you need help, or if someone you know is in need, please reach out. In the United States, you can contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline: www.thehotline.org, 1-800-799-SAFE (7233), or TTY 1-800-787-3224. See also the Partnership Against Domestic Violence: www.padv.org.
Please note that these are not crisis response resources. If you need immediate assistance, contact your local authorities without delay.
Know that you’re not alone. Know that it’s real and it’s not your fault. And trust that you’ll be believed and supported.
Acknowledgments
Researching the subject matter for this book led me down a dark path, into the secret lives of women dealing with domestic violence. I cannot overstate the traumatic, toxic, and far-reaching effects of this syndrome. This novel illuminates only a glimpse of the issue, but my hope is that survivors everywhere will find a way to reach for safety. To all the women who shared their stories with me—thank you from the bottom of my heart for your candor, your bravery, and your determination to survive.
Thanks to my editor, Rachel Kahan, and the remarkable team of professionals at William Morrow—Liate Stehlik, Jennifer Hart, Tavia Kowalchuk, Lauren Truskowski, Alivia Lopez, Karen Hansen—for their enthusiasm for this book. Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey of the Jane Rotrosen Agency are, as always, pillars of strength and humor. For guiding me and my readers through the social media labyrinth, I am eternally grateful for Cindy Peters, Ashley Hayes, and Elizabeth Wiggs.
Thanks to Laura Cherkas for thorough and thoughtful copy editing and to Marilyn Rowe for proofreading.
My husband, Jerry Gundersen, is a real-life designer and a source of inspiration in more ways than words can express.
About the Author
SUSAN WIGGS’s life is all about family, friends . . . and fiction. She lives at the water’s edge on an island in Puget Sound, and in good weather, she commutes to her writers’ group in a twenty-one-foot motorboat. She’s been featured in the national media, including NPR, PRI, and USA Today; has given programs for the U.S. embassies in Buenos Aires and Montevideo; and is a popular speaker locally, nationally, internationally, and on the high seas.
From the very start, Susan’s writings have illuminated the everyday dramas of ordinary people facing extraordinary circumstances. Her books celebrate the power of love, the timeless bonds of family, and the fascinating nuances of human nature. Today she is an internationally bestselling, award-winning author, with millions of copies of her books in print in numerous countries and languages. According to Publishers Weekly, Wiggs writes with “refreshingly honest emotion,” and the Salem Statesman Journal adds that she is “one of our best observers of stories of the heart [who] knows how to capture emotion on virtually every page of every book.” Booklist characterizes her books as “real and true and unforgettable.”
Her novels have appeared in the #1 spot on the New York Times bestseller list and have captured readers’ hearts around the globe, with translations into more than twenty languages in thirty countries. She is a three-time winner of the RITA Award. Her recent novel The Apple Orchard is currently being made into a film, and the Lakeshore Chronicles have been optioned for adaptation into a series.
The author is a former teacher, a Harvard graduate, an avid hiker, an amateur photographer, a good skier, and a terrible golfer, yet her favorite form of exercise is curling up with a good book.
Visit Susan Wiggs’s website at
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Susan’s Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/Susan-Wiggs/e/B000AQ1FJO
Susan’s Amazon page in the UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Susan-Wiggs/e/B000AQ1FJO
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Also by Susan Wiggs
Contemporary Novels
Between You & Me
Map of the Heart
Family Tree
Home Before Dark
The Ocean Between Us
Summer by the Sea
Table for Five
Lakeside Cottage
Just Breathe
The Goodbye Quilt
The Bella Vista Chronicles
The Apple Orchard
The Beekeeper’s Ball
The Lakeshore Chronicles
Summer at Willow Lake
The Winter Lodge
Dockside
Snowfall at Willow Lake
Fireside
Lakeshore Christmas
The Summer Hideaway
Marrying Daisy Bellamy
Return to Willow Lake
Candlelight Christmas
Starlight on Willow Lake
Historical Novels
The Lightkeeper
The Drifter
The Mistress of Normandy
The Maiden of Ireland
The Tudor Rose Trilogy
At the King’s Command
The Maiden’s Hand
At the Queen’s Summons
The Chicago Fire Trilogy
The Hostage
The Mistress
The Firebrand
The Calhoun Chronicles
The Charm School
The Horsemaster’s Daughter
Halfway to Heaven
Enchanted Afternoon
A Summer Affair
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
the oysterville sewing circle. Copyright © 2019 by Susan Wiggs. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First William Morrow hardcover published in 2019
Cover design by Alan Dingman
Cover photograph © Laura Kate Bradley/Arcangel
first edition
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
Digital Edition AUGUST 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-242561-4
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-242558-4
ISBN: 978-0-06-293038-5 (international edition)
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