“You all right, Angie?” Ross waved his hand in front of her and then poured wine into the four goblets on the table. “For a moment there, we lost you.”
“I…was transported back in time,” she murmured.
“Elena keeps hounding me to get some of those new stainless-steel appliances,” Lenore agreed with a chuckle, “but I can’t see—”
“Oh, don’t change a thing! It’s absolutely perfect here.” Angie’s hand went to her mouth. “I mean, it’s not my place to say—”
“Say anything you like, dear.” The inn’s mistress plopped a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes into a scarlet bowl and then smiled at her. Framed in a halo of silvery white hair that matched her tunic and slacks, her ageless face glowed with serenity. Her pale eyes sparkled with a mischief that seemed mystical, somehow. “You look close to my size, Angela. If you’d like Elena to fetch you a pair of dry pants before we eat—”
“That would be wonderful,” Angie breathed.
“—you can slip into them while I take a plate upstairs to Elliott James. You, Ross, will just have to suffer for failing to walk on water. Unless you want a pair of my pants, too.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stay out of them.” Ross winked but then sobered. “So, how’s Samantha doing?”
“It won’t be long now.” Lenore filled a plate with two pieces of chicken, some potatoes and cream gravy, and a generous serving of green beans. “I’ll be right back.”
Angie blinked. The room’s mood had gone from silly to serious in a heartbeat, and again these people had conversed as though she were already a player. Already a member of their inner circle. It gave her an awesome sense of belonging, but she wasn’t sure how she’d earned it.
Elena wiped her hands and took Angie’s elbow. “Let’s find you those jeans, chica. If I were a nosy woman, I’d speculate about why you and Ross came in wearing pants soaked up to your—”
“Nothing to speculate about, Elena!” Ross’s low voice followed them from the kitchen. “I was walking on water, like Lenore said. Dipped down to rescue a damsel in distress—and brought her here so you could help her, too.”
Angie smiled, for what could she say?
They passed through a small sitting room and into a bedroom done totally in white. Its wicker furnishings and the puffy quilt practically glowed, exuding an ethereal calm. On the dresser, a crystal angel glimmered in the glow of the candle that filled the room with a soft herbal scent. A table beside the window was covered with open books, a spiral notebook, and an arrangement of cards.
“I was walking into the ocean to…to end it all, after a horrendous confrontation with my ex,” Angie murmured. “Ross happened by at just the right time. Enticed me to try one of your cinnamon rolls.”
“Such a sweet-talker, that man! And aren’t you glad you listened?” Elena pulled a folded pair of faded jeans from a drawer and pressed them into Angie’s hands. “It’ll be all right now. I came home from work one day to a house my live-in had totally cleaned out. Like, poof, my stuff was gone! And then the bastard, he tried to run me down with his car in the convenience-store lot!” Her brown eyes glittered with surprising happiness. “Turned out to be the best day of my life. Lenore, she saw it all while she was filling her tank. She testified, so Shareef got what was coming to him. She brought me here, gave me a home and this job. She’s magic, that lady. She’ll work you a miracle, too.”
Angie’s throat tightened. Without batting an eye, this sparkly-eyed Latina had divulged her life story and also accepted the tale she’d just heard. No questions, no judgment. Just a warm hand and a willingness to be her friend. “Lenore’s very kind, to—”
“She’s upstairs now, with Dr. James and his wife. Lenore, she provides hospice care for those who need a peaceful place to…pass.” Elena paused to get control of her voice. “Samantha, she is the love of Elliott’s life, and he hasn’t left her side all week. Her eyes are open but she no longer responds. Cancer can be so very cruel, chica.”
“I’ve seen that a lot, yes. I’m a receptionist at a hospice in Seattle—or I was, until my ex got me fired with all his phone calls.” Angie squeezed Elena’s hand, gazing into her whiskey-colored face and coffee-colored eyes that shone with sadness. “And once again, other people’s problems make mine seem awfully petty, don’t they? I—Thanks for telling me about Lenore.”
“We’ve got rooms, if you need a place.”
“I can’t tell you how much—”
“No need, chica. Been there, done that.” Elena’s smile brightened the entire room again. “Don’t be long! Dinner’s hot and ready for you.”
WHAT tasted better, the wonderful home-cooked meal or the cozy conversation they shared in the kitchen as they ate? Angie unwound another coil of her oversized cinnamon roll and closed her eyes as its buttery sweetness covered her tongue.
As though she knew something, Lenore had gestured for Ross to sit across the little table from Angie, and his feet had found their way around hers. Was it because the sweet peach wine was going down like soda pop, or was he really grinning at her, flirting with her as he ate his roll in the exact same way, uncoiling an inch or two at a time?
Elena glanced up as the cuckoo clock tinkled “Edelweiss” and little Bavarian dancers circled above its ornate face. “Six forty-five! I need to set out more chairs and fetch my crochet bag!”
“Run along, dear. We’ll clean up.” Lenore smiled fondly at her helper, and then at Angie. “The crochet club is Elena’s way of keeping up with local gossip while she and her friends make beautiful afghans and shawls for the local homeless project, and for families who stay here while loved ones receive hospice care. It’s nice to see needlework coming back into fashion, and for younger women.”
“Thanks for the wonderful food, Elena.” Angie watched the swift, efficient movements as the housekeeper went to the sink, rinsed and stacked her dishes.
The Latina flashed her a grin that said they were beginning a friendship as fun and feisty as Elena herself. “It’s my pleasure to cook for you, chica. And of course, someone has to feel sorry for Ross and feed him now and again.” With a swish of her lush backside, Elena bumped the back of Ross’s chair on her way out of the room.
A satisfied silence fell. Angie let her gaze roam around the little room again, delighting in the old-fashioned comfort it gave her. “I’m amazed that someone still cooks from scratch, and mashes real potatoes, and…but then, you probably provide meals for your guests, so it’s not so unusual.”
“Only breakfast, which we serve buffet style in the upstairs dining room.” Lenore refolded her napkin beside her plate. “We spend our days doing things that nurture us, body and soul. Sharing and preparing a meal, it gives Elena and me some time together. Did she tell you how she came here?”
“Yeah. What a story.” Angie shifted, wondering where this would lead.
Lenore placed her hand on Angie’s wrist. “Too often people spend their lives walking emotional tightropes without a net. I’m proud of you for leaving the man who grabbed you around the neck, dear. You ran for your life, and now you’re on your way to something so much better!”
Angie’s skin flared hot under her collar. She felt Ross’s gaze but didn’t have nerve enough to return it. While it was true Gregg’s handprint had branded her, how did these people know so much? How did they sense what she’d left behind, as though she were—how had Ross put it—destined to come here?
“No need to be scared, dear,” Lenore continued quietly. “You may stay as long as you need to, as long as you want to. I’ll ask you no questions about—”
“My ex—his name is Gregg, and I divorced him six months ago—has been calling me again and again,” Angie blurted. “He tied up the lines at the hospice where I worked, and…well, the director turned me loose today. Then Gregg was lurking in my car. When he grabbed me, I hit my alarm button and got away, but he’d drained my bank account and…and I came here because he won’t know where to follow me. I got so upset that I
was walking into the ocean when Ross and his dogs…well, they brought me here. Such as I am.”
“You’re wonderful,” Ross whispered. “And you deserve better.”
“And we’re so glad you’ve come to us, Angie.” Lenore squeezed her hand.
Silence again, yet it was comfortable. Peaceful. These people didn’t think she was a basket case, or a charity case, just because she’d hooked up with the wrong guy ten years ago. “Thanks,” she sighed. “My parents brought me to Harmony Falls for vacations when I was a kid. We always rented the same bungalow, on the corner of Windswept, about two blocks from the water. Such good times, those vacations were, but the folks are gone now. I had nowhere else to turn.”
She sighed, gazing around the kitchen. “This little voice inside my head kept prodding me to come here, though the walk in the water was my idea. Bad one, too,” she added sadly. “I’m not usually such a drama queen.”
“That voice was your intuition. Divine guidance. And you listened. We sometimes have to reach the end of our rope and see that we’ve run completely out of options, so we can turn a different direction.” Lenore looked so wise, and her face ageless: her hair shone like cashmere snow, while her skin glowed with youthful vitality. Her gorgeous eyes glimmered, serene pools of gray and then blue, depending on how the light hit them.
“You’d probably like some time to mull things over after such a traumatic day. The Rainbow Room has a balcony facing the ocean. Would you like that one, dear?”
“Yes, but you probably have guests with reservations, or—I should help you clean up all these pans and dishes, and…” Angie’s throat tightened with emotion. “Well, I don’t feel right, walking away from a mess.”
“Your mother taught you well. She’d be pleased you came back here, where you have such fond memories. But honestly,” Lenore insisted as she rose from the table, “I want you to settle in. Listen to the call of the water and let your Spirit whisper its plans for you. Plenty of time to decide how you’ll contribute here at the inn. Or if you’ll go your own way.”
Ross also stood. “If you’d like to look around town tomorrow, I’d love to take you.”
Angie’s temperature rose as she caught her reflection in his eyes. “Oh, I can surely find my way around—”
“I’m the local Realtor. I have to check several properties anyway, so you can ride along if you like.” He took his jacket from a peg by the door. “You might want this, too. Elvis fetched it.”
Her glittery pink phone looked totally foreign in his large, masculine hand, a hand that had led her away from death today. She envisioned the black and white dog racing after the phone and found herself laughing despite the pain. “Thanks, I—”
“If Gregg harasses you again, let me know.” Ross held her hand for a long moment before releasing her phone. His dark beard looked so damned wicked, yet his eyes were kind. Concerned. “I told him the law was on its way if he called you again, Angie. Hope I wasn’t out of line, but I have zero tolerance for jerks who hurt women.”
Lenore, who’d been watching this exchange, smiled with a feline slyness. “See there, Angela? Already your options are looking better. You’ve wiped your slate clean now, and the possibilities are endless. We try to live life without limits here, you see.”
Life without limits.
The innkeeper shooed them toward the door and began to stack the remaining dinner dishes. Angie’s pulse skittered as she stepped outside, felt Ross’s hand close gently around hers. Was he going to kiss her? Did he really want to see her tomorrow, or was he just being nice?
When they reached their cars, his smile, softened by the glow of the porch light, made something flutter in her stomach. She felt like a girl on her first date, innocent yet hopeful.
“So, was that cinnamon roll everything I promised it would be?”
Angie blinked. Caught herself watching his mouth when he talked. “The whole meal was fabulous! I haven’t been this stuffed since—”
He cut her off as his lips brushed hers in a kiss so soft, so exquisite, she wasn’t sure it was real. “There’s more where that came from,” he murmured. “So…tomorrow?”
She quivered inside. “More rolls, or…kisses?”
“Yes.”
A giggle bubbled up from deep inside her. “I can’t thank you enough for—”
“Don’t complicate my need to see you with gratitude or obligation, babe. I don’t want to muck this up or rush into something before you’re ready.” Ross lightly caressed her hair, her cheek, and then fished his car keys from his pocket. His dogs had come from around the corner to watch this back-and-forth with alert, shining eyes. “We on for tomorrow?” he asked again.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
His smile made her go tight inside. Things seemed to be falling so effortlessly into place, and now she felt confident. More hopeful than she’d been for months.
Years, that inner voice corrected.
Ross opened his car door for his two dogs, grinning like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And when he smiled, that mustache curved and his eyes twinkled with a foxy sort of mischief, and he was the sexiest man she’d ever met.
Angie waved as he pulled away. Hugging herself against the evening breeze, she picked up her water-saturated shoes and stepped inside to help Lenore with the dishes.
Four
“OHHH, pups, it’s gonna be soooo good,” Ross crooned as he drove toward town. He rumpled Elvis’s ears and chucked Celine under her chin as the pair gawked at him from the passenger seat. “Did you see those great legs, and that ass they’re attached to? And that pixie grin? Don’t you just wanna lick her all over?”
When the border collie’s tongue popped out, Ross laughed. “She’s a scared one, though. Deer in the headlights, after the way that jerk…But he’s outta the picture. Angie came here to be with us, and—”
His cell phone jarred him out of his fantasy, and when he saw the number he let it ring again. Taking a moment, he summoned the breezy greeting Rita McQueen expected, so his voice wouldn’t betray the excitement Angie had kicked up. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”
“How about you? Here? Say, five minutes?”
No mistaking that purr in her voice. They’d been lovers, off and on, for years and had a grown son to show for it. It was a comfortable arrangement for unattached fortysomethings in a small town that attracted few singles, except Ross now recalled all the reasons he’d never married Rita and all the reasons she’d wanted him to.
Time to leave her behind, pal. No more excuses.
Angie Cavanaugh had twisted his kaleidoscope: her flawless face, those tawny eyes, that flicker of a kiss had already changed the shapes and colors of his dreams. He wanted more than the convenient encounters he and Rita took for granted. And he wanted it now.
“Would if I could,” he hedged, “but I’ve gotta prep tomorrow night’s show. Make some client callbacks.”
Rita’s sigh hung low, like storm clouds. “That won’t take you but a few minutes. Meanwhile, you could come over here to make me feel all better.”
“Rough day?” Ross began planning his conversational escape. It was never good when Rita had that whine in her voice.
“Oh, the usual spring thing. Got all my new oracle decks on the shelves, and the damned tourists haven’t arrived yet.”
He made the next turn without a signal, so she wouldn’t hear the blinker. “Did you do any phone readings today? You said you were building up a steady clientele of online—”
“Yeah, well, two of them were no-shows and…you’re in the car, aren’t you?”
Damn. That lift in her voice suggested hope, as if he might be headed her way. There was no denying Rita McQueen’s psychic abilities, even if her moods and her meds sometimes got in the way. But thinking of Angie made him want to run like a man possessed back to the lodge. “Just exercised the dogs. Need to check a couple of bungalows for—”
“You can be here in two minutes, Ross. And it only takes two s
econds to get naked,” she whispered. “All I’ve got on is that little black thong you gave me.”
He wished he’d never bought that thong from the back room of her shop one night when things got slow. The way she saw it, all his roads should lead to Rita. “You know how you just said business was slow?” he ventured. “Well, it’s not exactly running me ragged, either, so I really need to check these places—”
“You’re tired of me.”
“Nope. Just taking care of—”
“You’re going to see another woman, aren’t you?”
He braked. Took a deep breath. “I have female clients, you know. Matter of fact, I was just at Lenore’s. But even if I were to see someone else, because we’ve always agreed to a no-strings relationship—”
“You want that, because you’re a man! You have no idea how…how scary it is to be a woman my age, living alone in this tomb of a town!”
“So move, Rita. Your shop would do better in Portland or Seaside, anyway. And with so much of your clientele contacting you online now…”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You talk like I could just pull up stakes, as though…” Her voice faltered. “Your business would do better in Portland, too, Ross. But I get the distinct impression you’re not going there.”
How did he get out of this one? Ross eased down the street, past her apartment, to make a one-handed turn at the south end of Main. “Rita, I’m sorry. I’ve told you I have things to do,” he reminded her tersely, “and you’re swinging into one of your moods.”
“What kind of a remark is that? You know I can’t help—”
“You’re the least helpless woman I know. But things get nasty fast when you start obsessing,” he muttered, “so don’t go there. Read your cards. Drink some tea and take your meds. I’ll catch you another time.” He clapped his phone shut. Dropped it into his pocket. Wasn’t surprised when it rang again as he turned onto Windswept Lane.
Law of Attraction Page 3