Letters and Lace (The Ronan's Harbor Series)

by M. Kate Quinn

  “I, uh, was looking for Sarah.”

  “She’s upstairs in her apartment,” the taller one said pointing to the stairway back near the entrance.

  Tentatively Benny meandered into the sunroom and cast his eyes around the disarray. “This looks like quite a project.”

  The shorter guy scratched his head. “Yeah, didn’t count on a flooded crawlspace warping floorboards and molding up the sheetrock.”

  The other one shook his head. “We’ll be here day and night getting this ready for the wedding. Her daughter’s getting married in, what, like five weeks?”

  Benny fists formed into tight knots. He detested having to blow the whistle on this lady’s plans. He wanted to call Sal and have him come do his own dirty work.

  Oh, he could just hear the caustic accusations that would spew from his brother’s fat mouth. He filled his lungs with air, let it expel through his mouth.

  He was no coward but he sure as hell felt like an idiot for getting himself involved. He’d agreed to see this through and his only solace was the eventual sale of the damned little shack on Ocean Boulevard.

  The craving to erase the memory of this town and everybody in it flourished in him like a well-watered weed. Hell, lately the desire had grown to full-blown need. He needed the distance from Sarah and what she evoked in him.

  “Can you find Sarah for me?” he asked, halting his reverie. “I need to talk with her.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “That was Harvey,” Sarah said, placing her phone’s handset back in its cradle. “He said somebody’s here to see me. Come on, kid, let’s go downstairs. After we see who this is, we’ll go over our wedding lists again. Okay?”

  She and Hannah descended the staircase and the first glance at his dark mass of hair told her it was Benny. Her chest clenched. She forced herself to keep in mind that Hannah was there with her and any debate over the permit issue might send her already head-spinning bride-child into orbit.

  Shit. She hoped Benny wasn’t there to discuss the notes. God only knew what Hannah would do with that news.

  “Benny, hi.” She spoke cheerfully for the benefit of her self-professed edgy daughter. She could tell he was surprised by her pleasant-sounding smoke screen.

  Gruffly, he asked, “Do you have a minute?”

  She broadened her dry-toothed grin and introduced him to Hannah.

  “Ah,” he said, “the bride.” The pinch melted from his face, morphing into affable warmth. His eyes shone with that polished-onyx glint that spoke to Sarah’s nerve endings—the deeply embedded ones. No, she silently warned. No.

  “Yes.” Hannah motioned her head in the direction of the sunroom. “Hopefully.”

  “Honey, why don’t you go in and check on things? Benny, would you like something to drink? How about a cup of tea?”

  She saw the protest forming on his lips. Sarah shot him her best look of necessity. Confusion painted his face but his shoulders relaxed and he offered a tentative nod.

  He followed her down the hallway to the inn’s kitchen. The moment they were in the room with the door swinging behind them Sarah spun around to face him.

  She whispered hotly, “Benny, whatever this is about, please don’t discuss the permit or the notes in front of Hannah. First of all she doesn’t know a thing about those. And I’ve convinced her that the whole permit thing is not going to mean the end of our plans.”

  He raked his hair with an abrupt dash of his hand. “Looks like you convinced yourself, too.”

  “The carpenters began work unwittingly. I hadn’t had a chance to discuss the permit issue with them. They had their own key and showed up while I was out. I’ll handle the situation. Is that all?”

  He blew out a long breath. “I know it sucks, Sarah, but the law’s the law. You can’t have the wedding here. Your daughter’s going to have to know sometime.”

  Sarah tightened with an angry surge that yearned to fly from her hands, reach out and shake him silly. “Do you get your jollies making people miserable?”

  “Just a talent, I guess.” It sounded more like a confession than sarcasm.

  Hannah burst through the door carrying a large cardboard box, the bottom warped and stained dark from moisture.

  Sarah cast Benny a warning look, although his eyes did not return any sign of acknowledgement.

  “Mom, look what the guys found in the crawl space!” Hannah placed the floppy-bottomed box on top of the island. She reached both hands in and withdrew a familiar old stuffed dog—the plush replica of the Seeing Eye puppy she had raised as a teenager. “Look, it’s Parker,” she exclaimed.

  Suddenly, Hannah sounded like her old self. Gone were the anxious demeanor and the dour look that had become her signature these days. She hugged the musty-smelling toy to her body and gave it a squeeze. “You smell, Parker.” She scolded as if the object had willfully chosen his mustiness. “Anything we can do about it, Mom? The tag says to spot wash.”

  “Try baking soda,” Benny muttered.

  Both women turned in his direction. “Sprinkle baking soda on the dog and let it sit overnight, preferably outdoors. Then tomorrow vacuum it with the attachment thing you use to do your furniture.”

  Hannah grinned at him. “Well, Mr. Benedetto, you’re a life saver.”

  “Benny,” he said. “My father was Mr. Benedetto.”

  “Thank you, Benny,” she said sweetly before flashing Sarah an appreciative glance.

  Sarah found the baking soda in the cabinet. She handed it to Hannah doing her best to keep the irony from the front of her mind. The truth was not only was this guy not a life saver, he was a wannabe wedding killer.

  After Hannah took the stuffed Parker outside to begin her task Sarah turned abruptly toward Benny. She kept her voice low and it came rasped. “Did you come here just to monitor the goings-on at my inn?”

  “I think you should concern yourself that the work going on in the sunroom could cause you a problem, Sarah. Unless, of course, you’ve decided you’re above the law.”

  Adrenaline blasted through her system. She took a step closer, lifting her chin at him. “What if it does? Going to have me arrested?”

  “Maybe locking you up would do you some good,” he shot back.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That way maybe you can stay clear of that mystery correspondent of yours and let the police do their job.”

  Venom bubbled up from her depths landing in her throat as a bitter-tasting retort. The sound of the back door stifled her protest.

  Hannah entered, and it was as though a ring announcer had rung his bell at the end of a round. The warring parties retreated to their own corners, Benny to a stool at the island, Sarah to the stove to put on tea.

  She banged the teapot onto a burner with a heavy hand. The only way she’d find herself behind bars was if she gave in to the urge to clobber him, which she might.

  “Sentimental toy, huh?” he asked.

  His kind comment stilled her as she listened. She sneaked a peek out the corner of her eye.

  “Yes,” Hannah replied. Her face was warm with nostalgia. “Years ago I raised a puppy as a community service project to be a service dog. His name was Parker. I was nuts about that dog.”

  In spite of her mood, Sarah felt her lips soften into a curve. She was glad to be facing away from Benny so he wouldn’t see. The memory of that sweet golden lab following Hannah around, learning her diligent commands came flooding back.

  They had had such a bond. A swell of pride filled her chest at the memory of Hannah’s brave goodbye to the beloved Parker when it had come time to relinquish him to his duty.

  She poured steaming hot tea into cups. Bracing herself, she turned in his direction and jutted a cup at Benny.

  He accepted the offering while gazing at her openly. “Thank you.”

  Their eyes locked and Sarah bristled at the evident challenge in his dark orbs. “Don’t burn your lip.”

  His mouth quirked up at one
side and his eyes flashed with amusement. “Thanks for the warning.” He turned his attention to Hannah.

  “It must have been tough to give the dog up, huh?”

  “I knew going in that that’s how it would end.” Hannah gave a melancholy shrug. “Hard as it was, it’s what I had to do.”

  She glanced out through the backdoor’s window. “I’m going to pin old Parker onto the clothesline to air out.” She retreated through the door. “Thank God it’s a sunny day,” she said as it closed behind her.

  As soon as Hannah was out of sight, Benny began, “Sarah, listen—”

  “Nope,” Sarah said, crossing her arms. “Not listening. You’ve screwed things up enough for me. Don’t burden my daughter with your official complaints. Unless there’s something else you’ve come here to complain about, maybe it’s time you left.”

  The backdoor swung open again, silencing their exchange. Hannah was not alone this time. Gigi strode in, booming in her exuberance. “What’s this, a party? Cripes, you’re all drinking tea?” She plopped onto a stool beside Benny. “That’s no party. We need wine.”

  Sarah blew out a whoosh of air. She loved Gigi like a sister but today her timing couldn’t be worse. How was she supposed to chase Benny away before he did any more damage?

  “Well, hello, you,” she drawled at Benny.

  Benny nodded at her. “Hi.”

  Gigi rubbed her hands together. “Okay, Sarah, let’s uncork a party.”

  Sarah tried to flash her friend a distinct red flag look.

  “Come on. I have a toast.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes but went to the fridge for the bottle of chardonnay. She suddenly felt like having a glass. She pulled goblets out of the cabinet.

  “Let’s see what we have to nibble on down here.” Hannah rummaged through the cabinets. “Nothing. I’ll run upstairs and get some snacks from the apartment.” She trotted through the door.

  Sarah poured herself a good dose of the white wine. Might as well, she thought. She was fairly certain they didn’t serve wine in the slammer.

  “What a surprise to see you two here like this,” Gigi directed at Benny. “I mean, I don’t usually invite my adversaries in for wine in the afternoon.”

  Benny pushed away his tea cup and lifted his wine glass to his lips. Sarah silently admitted they were rather appealing lips. A shame that such a nice mouth spews such bullshit.

  “He’s going to be leaving any minute,” Sarah said, her voice firm. He had the gall to lift his glass as though toasting her words.

  Hannah reentered again carrying a box of crackers and a block of cheese. She arranged the items onto a couple of plates before grabbing a short stack of napkins and putting it all on the island.

  Gigi grabbed a cracker and popped it into her mouth with a loud crunch. “Party time!” She eyed the misshapen box on the counter. “What’s all that?”

  “Memories,” Hannah said. She peered into the carton as if it was a treasure chest.

  She pulled out her high school notebook. The blue fabric cover was mottled with ink scribbles of hearts and the initials of her and Jeremy Hudson. She flipped open the cover and turned the pages. “Social Studies notes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Why the heck would I save these?”

  She put the binder back in the box and sucked in her breath. She withdrew an old, black lacquer-painted jewelry box with Japanese flowers on the lid. Sarah recognized it immediately. Years ago it had been a gift from Jeremy.

  Hannah gave the little knob of one of the drawers a gentle pull but the face came off in her hand. “Oh man, this thing’s rotted.”

  Surprising Sarah again, Benny stood from his counter stool and stepped closer to Hannah. He took the small drawer face carefully into his hand. “You can fix this,” he said. “Wood glue.”

  Hannah looked at him with appreciative eyes. “Boy, am I lucky you stopped by today.”

  Sarah smiled. What she was thinking was, want to bet?

  Hannah perused the interior of the jewelry box, carefully opening the other compartments. “Oh my God.”

  “What is it, honey?” Sarah came close.

  Hannah withdrew a petite oval pendant hanging from a thin, silver chain. Sarah remembered the necklace. It had been Hannah’s high school graduation gift from Jeremy—the token of a promise between two kids too young to really know about lifelong promises.

  “Opal,” Benny said looking over. “October your birth month?”

  Hannah nodded without looking away from the object. “The eleventh.”

  “My wife’s birthday was in October, that’s how I knew.”

  For some reason it surprised Sarah to learn of his marriage. The past tense of his statement could mean a couple of scenarios. Was he a widower? Divorced? Better yet, who cares? She shook the thoughts from her head.

  Hannah held the necklace up to her chest, looking at her reflection in the black door of the microwave oven. She stared at her image for a long moment. “Riding on a rainbow,” she mused with a wistful smile.

  She looked up at her mother. “Remember?”

  Sarah nodded, feeling an odd pull in her chest.

  Hannah gazed at Benny and Gigi. “The legend of the opal is that God created opals after riding down to earth on a rainbow.” She collapsed the chain into her palm and touched a delicate finger to the stone. “Superstition says that opals lead the wearer to true love.” She laughed a hollow sound. “And here it sits in a crumbling box warped by a flooded basement.”

  “Well, that explains it, then.” Benny’s mouth twisted sardonically. “I gave my wife an opal for some occasion and very soon after she left me for another man.” He brought his wine glass to his mouth and took a pull.

  Placing an elbow on the counter surface, Gigi said, “Well, I don’t know about you people, but I’m hoping there’s a guy on this planet who’ll think of something that sweet for me.” She bit into a cracker punctuating her statement with a loud crunch. “Just saying.”

  A quiet came over Hannah as she gently placed the old jewel chest into the carton. She gathered and replaced the other items she’d removed, closing the flaccid flaps back over them. She pulled the box into her arms and headed toward the kitchen door, pushing it open with her backside. “I think I’ll take this stuff upstairs for now.” And she was gone.

  Without the focus of Hannah’s finds, the three of them sat in silence for what Sarah felt was a long, awkward minute. She felt Gigi’s eyes burning at her with question.

  Unable to stand it, she finally spoke. “Thank you for not mentioning the permit in front of her,” Sarah said softly. “She’s got enough to deal with right now.”

  Benny blew out a long breath. “I understand the predicament this puts you in, Sarah, but look at it this way—keeping things as they are around here is for the betterment of the town. Can’t you just hold the wedding someplace else? Then everybody would be satisfied.”

  Everybody? She felt her blood stir again. Like hell. “With just a few weeks left before the event? Benny, look don’t even try to dignify your selfish act by using the excuse that Ronan’s Harbor would benefit from my not having the wedding here. I don’t care a hoot about your rationale for the complaint and I couldn’t care less about whether you and your brother reap big bucks on the house you bought.”

  She felt the heat in her face. “If we want to discuss what’s best for Ronan’s Harbor, I vote that you sell your house and get the hell out. Leave me and everyone else around here alone.”

  He offered no response but stood from his seat, his mouth set in a tight line. Something unrecognizable smoldered in his eyes. It was not anger, but it was intense and it made her heart quicken.

  Heat flushed her face with something new and her mouth went dry. Such harsh words were foreign to her tongue and they tasted like bile.

  Benny ceremoniously placed his wine glass onto the counter. He offered Gigi, who sat silent and staring, a short nod. He then turned to Sarah. “I’ll let myself out.”

  He wal
ked through the swinging door which slapped back and forth behind him in what looked like a wave goodbye.

  Sarah locked onto Gigi’s big, round eyes.

  “Guess you told him.” Gigi’s words were a near whisper, her tone as hollow as the sudden feeling of emptiness that sat in Sarah’s chest.

  Sarah gulped the remainder of the wine in her glass. “Damn him,” she said before charging out of the room.

  She caught Benny on the front porch. “Benny,” she said, breathless from something beyond the short sprint down the hallway from the kitchen.

  He turned to her, staring with those big, dark eyes. His mouth curved into a humorless lopsided smile. “You’re right, you know…” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  Her lips parted to speak, but the words were gnawed away by the solemnity in his eyes.

  “I have no business being in this town, let alone messing with its inhabitants.” His words were flat and emotionless, but they sent a charge through her.

  Heat flushed her face. Finally, she said, “This is a nightmare we don’t deserve.” She swallowed hard. “And, God only knows what those notes I’ve gotten are about.”

  She took a breath to loosen the taut muscles binding her chest like a straight jacket. “But I’m sorry I said what I did. It was unfair and unkind. My nerves are frazzled, but that’s no excuse.”

  His mouth curved into a sad facsimile of a smile. “You’re a nice lady, Sarah Grayson. The last thing you need to do is apologize to me.” And he turned to leave.

  Her eyes followed him as he retreated down the stairs and made his way along the brick sidewalk. It was only after he was out of sight that she realized she had clenched a hand to her sweater, making a tight fist of wool over her heart.

  ****

  Benny skipped the trip to the market and headed in the opposite direction. He thought of Ann Marie and saw the image in his mind of the way she’d looked on the day she had left him. She had had that same angry exasperation on her face, the same ragged sound of bitterness in her voice that had just come from Sarah.