In an effort to distract myself from thinking about Paul, I busied myself with projects I’d been putting off. Although it was summer, I tackled spring-cleaning chores that I hadn’t quite gotten around to doing. Today it was the kitchen cupboards. I took the glasses down from a cupboard and set them along the countertop.
“Need any help with that?” I turned around to find Mark standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen.
I hesitated, standing on top of the step stool I kept in the kitchen. The time Mark found me on a ladder, he’d nearly gone ballistic. We’d had a terrible argument about it. He’d ended up walking off the job and I’d threatened to sue him. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the anger to cool on both sides. Since then, Mark had eased up on his dictatorial ways and I’d stopped making threats. We’d treaded pretty lightly with each other ever since.
“I’m tackling some spring cleaning.”
“It’s August,” he reminded me. “It seems you’ve been doing a lot of spring cleaning lately.”
“So I’m a tad bit late.” I wasn’t making excuses, although if he asked, I had several good ones. I didn’t know why it concerned him, anyway. So what if I was behind schedule? “You know what they say: Better late than never.”
He eyed the step stool and seemed to debate whether he should say anything. Apparently, he decided against it. He reached for a mug sitting on the crowded counter and headed toward my coffeepot. “Mind if I help myself?”
“Go ahead.”
“Should I brew you one while I’m here?”
It seemed Mark had something on his mind; otherwise, he wouldn’t be interested in coffee or in me joining him. If I knew anything about Mark, it was that he wasn’t one to sit around and shoot the breeze. Nor was he one who indulged in idle conversation. If he had something on his mind, it didn’t stay there long.
“Coffee?” he repeated, holding up a second mug.
I didn’t realize that I hadn’t answered him. “Sure, I could use a break.”
After he brewed two cups he walked outside with his coffee, which led me to believe I was supposed to follow him, so I did. I found him on the back deck off the living area, where my guests most often congregated. He leaned against the railing with his elbows braced against the freshly painted surface. “It sure is a beautiful afternoon.” His gaze scanned the waterfront.
“It is.” August was often like this. The green trees and the crystal-blue waters never seemed more vibrant. I hadn’t traveled extensively, but Paul had, and he’d reassured me that there was no place on earth as lush and gorgeous as Puget Sound when the sun was overhead.
I didn’t figure Mark had come to discuss the weather; I had known him long enough to understand that he didn’t like to be rushed. He’d tell me whatever was on his mind when he was good and ready.
“Did your guests arrive?”
“All but Peter McConnell.”
Mark turned around, his face tightening. “Peter McConnell? Not the same Peter McConnell who lives in Cedar Cove?”
“Yes, one and the same. Peter phoned for a reservation earlier this morning.”
Mark’s gaze narrowed. “Peter has a house in town.”
“Yes, I know. I believe this has something to do with some plumbing work he’s having done on his house.”
Mark made a harrumphing sound as if to say he didn’t believe a word of it. “And you mean to say he hasn’t got a single friend in this entire town who was willing to put him up for the night? Not even his own daughter?”
“I didn’t ask him. Besides, I’m not about to turn away a paying customer.”
Mark stood his ground. “In this case, I think it might be a good idea.”
I could feel my ire rising. I inhaled a steadying breath and then, as calmly as I could manage, I said, “Mark, stop right now. You’re stepping over the line.”
“What line?”
“The one I just drew in the sand.” I could feel my ears heating up, which was a good indication I was about to blow my cool. “Who I choose to accept as a guest in my inn is my business.” I spoke slowly, making sure he heard and understood each and every word.
Mark looked back at the water view and didn’t speak for several seconds. Tension seemed to vibrate between us. Finally, he exhaled and said, “I don’t trust the man, and if you knew him better, you wouldn’t, either.”
I hadn’t heard anything about Peter McConnell one way or the other. I glared back at Mark.
Apparently, he got the message, because he looked away first. “If I were you I’d collect my fee up front.”
“He owes you money?”
“Just take my word for it, Jo Marie.”
“I will,” I promised, my irritation vanishing as quickly as it came. “Did you have something else on your mind?”
He returned my stare with a blank look, as if the reason he’d stopped by had slipped his mind. “Oh yeah. I have an estimate for the gazebo.”
“You already gave it to me; I trust you to be fair.”
He dug into his shirt pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I got everything tallied here. The price of lumber went up in the last week, so I had to revise the figure I gave you earlier. If you want to hold off building the gazebo, I’ll understand.”
I read over the formal estimate. The earlier bid he’d given me was off the top of his head. This time he’d priced the materials, added the cost of his labor, and written me a formal proposal. From the look of it, he’d taken the better part of the morning putting it together. The bottom line was only a two-hundred-dollar increase over the estimate he’d told me earlier.
“It’s fine.”
“You want me to get started, then?”
“I do.”
He grinned as if he was glad for the business, although to hear him, he had more work than he knew what to do with, which was probably true.
“Did you see the reader board at the hardware store?” I asked.
He gave me an odd look. “Yeah. What about it?”
“They’re looking for an experienced sales associate. That kind of work would be right up your alley.”
Mark frowned. “Why would I want to work at the hardware store?”
The answer should be obvious. “You’d be good at it, Mark. You know how to fix just about anything. You could help a lot of people.”
He shook his head as if the very idea went against the grain. “I help a lot of people now.”
“But you’d have a regular paycheck and benefits.”
“I have all the benefits I need, thank you very much.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get bent out of shape; it was just an idea.”
“A bad one.” He scratched the side of his head and frowned as if I’d insulted him by the mere suggestion.
I heard a car door shut in the distance and figured that either the Porters had returned from lunch or Peter McConnell was ready to check into his room. Despite what I’d said, I’d take Mark’s warning seriously, but I wasn’t going to turn McConnell away simply because Mark didn’t trust the man.
Mark walked around to the front of the inn with me. I’d guessed right. It was Peter. Right away, the Mark Taylor who I’d always known to be taciturn and short-tempered took on an entirely new persona. He raised his arm and waved to Peter, and called out a cheery greeting.
“Peter. How you doing, buddy?”
I looked at Mark as if seeing him for the first time.
My latest arrival stopped and looked as shocked as I was. Peter was in his late forties, I guessed … maybe early fifties. His hair was completely gray, and he was reasonably good-looking. I had to assume he lived alone, since he’d requested a room for one.
Peter looked from me to Mark and then back again. “Oh hi, Mark. Listen, if you’re worried about what I owe you …”
“Forget about it,” Mark cajoled, as if however much was due him was of little consequence.
Mark glanced over his shoulder and shot me a warning look. I wasn’t entire
ly sure what his message was, but I could tell he wanted me to keep quiet.
“Jo Marie was telling me you’re having some work done at the house.”
“Plumbing. The water’s been shut off and won’t be turned back on until tomorrow morning.”
“Better on the house than having a doc work on your plumbing,” Mark said, and laughed as if he’d found himself highly amusing. Then he looked at me and whispered under his breath, “I wonder if he paid his water bill.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I whispered back.
Mark turned his attention back to the other man. “Listen, old buddy, there’s no need to pay for a night at the inn. You can spend it with me at my house. I’ve got a spare room.”
Peter hesitated. “You sure?”
“Why not? We’re friends, right?”
“Right … but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” His look said he was skeptical, and frankly, I didn’t blame him.
“It’s no problem,” Mark said, with a wave of his hand. “I’m glad to do it.”
Still, Peter hesitated. “I guess that would be all right, and it would save me a couple hundred bucks.”
No way did I charge that much for a room. I opened my mouth to contradict him but changed my mind.
“You okay with that, Jo Marie?” Mark asked, directing the question at me with narrowed eyes.
“Sure, that’s no problem on my end.” But I intended on letting Mark know I was onto his game.
“That your truck over there?” Peter asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Sure is. Go to my place and I’ll join you in a minute.”
Mark was silent until Peter was out of earshot, and then, before I had a chance to say anything, Mark spoke. “You can get upset with me later, and as for the money you’re losing, you can deduct it from my bid for the gazebo.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. The man made no sense to me. Clearly, he disliked Peter McConnell. By his own words he didn’t trust the other man, and yet he’d invited him to spend the night in his home.
Mark didn’t look the least bit pleased. “The hell if I know.” He shook his head and walked away, leaving me to wonder if all common sense had deserted Mark Taylor.
I retrieved our coffee mugs and returned to the kitchen, where I found Ellie Reynolds looking a bit lost and nervous.
“Oh hi,” I said. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’ve been waiting most of the afternoon for a phone call from Tom.”
“And you’re antsy.”
She shrugged. “We’ve never met, you see.”
She’d told me that earlier. “And you’ve come a long way to meet him,” I added, and the implication was more than just the distance. From the small amount of information Ellie had told me I knew that she’d defied her mother in order to meet Tom.
“He can’t have his phone in the shipyard. I have to wait until he’s off work to hear from him, and that won’t be for a couple more hours. I went for a walk and had lunch, but I’m so nervous now I don’t know what to do with myself.”
I wasn’t sure what to tell her.
“I see you’re cleaning out cupboards,” she said, eyeing the glassware lined up along my countertop and the roll of shelving paper. “Would you mind if I helped you?”
She wanted to help me clean. “Ah …”
“That’s what I do, you know.”
I didn’t know. “You’re a housekeeper?”
“No, I’m a professional organizer. People call me to organize their basements and garages or the entire house. I’m actually good at that sort of thing. I always have been.”
“And you’ve arranged kitchens?” I could use the help, but it wasn’t in me to ask a guest for this kind of professional advice without being willing to pay for it.
“Oh yes, I’ve reorganized dozens of kitchens.”
“I’d be happy to pay you.”
“Nonsense. You’d be saving me from going stir-crazy.” Without waiting for my approval, she looked at the cupboard where I’d stored the glasses. Right away I knew what she was thinking. “I store them here because they’re close to the breakfast room.”
“Makes sense, but my guess is, you carry them out on a tray, right?”
“Right.”
“Why not put them in the cupboard above the dishwasher?” I looked across the room and realized it made perfect sense. My goodness, I should have thought of that myself.
For the next hour, Ellie had me switching things around the kitchen in an order I would never have thought of doing. Like she claimed, she was good at organizing, really good.
We were so involved in our discussion that we almost didn’t hear her cell phone. When she did, she took it out of her pocket and tapped on the surface. Her face broke into a huge smile.
“It’s Tom.”
Seeing the joy that lit up her face reminded me of the way I felt when I received a call from Paul half a world away. That sense of happiness, of being connected, of being loved. It did me good to see that in someone else and know that I had experienced that same contentment once myself.
Chapter 6
“Hello,” Ellie said, gripping the phone and pressing it so hard against the side of her face that her ear ached.
“Hi,” Tom answered, and he sounded as excited as Ellie was herself. “So you got into Cedar Cove okay.”
“Yes. I’m at the Rose Harbor Inn now.”
“Your flight was smooth?”
He was asking about more than just the time in the air, she realized. “No problems.” She didn’t mention the troubles with her overprotective mother.
“I know your mom was dead set against this.”
“My mother doesn’t rule my life.” Not from a lack of trying, however.
“I was sincere about talking to her, reassuring her.”
“No.” Ellie was adamant. Experience had taught her that nothing Tom said or did would ease Virginia Reynolds’s worries. Over the years her mother had ruined Ellie’s dating prospects far too often. She’d lost count of the number of promising relationships that had gone down in flames, all because of her mother’s fears. What angered Ellie was how she had let it happen. Well, not this time. Not with Tom.
“I’m excited to see you,” Tom said, his voice dipping slightly.
“Me, too … see you, I mean,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“I’ll be off work in another couple hours, but I’d like to run home and change clothes before I come to the inn. I made dinner reservations at DD’s on the Cove. We can walk there from the inn, but I’d rather drive in case we want to go somewhere after dinner.”
“It’s perfect. I walked down to the waterfront shortly after I arrived.” After being cooped up on the plane and then the bus, Ellie had felt the need to exercise her legs. Walking had helped her burn off nervous energy.
“I won’t be more than fifteen minutes longer than the time I gave you.”
“No problem. I’m not going anywhere,” Ellie assured him. The anticipation was all part of the excitement. Meeting Tom was like Christmas times ten. “Are you nervous?” she asked. They’d spoken frequently, and she knew the sound of his voice, and she could hear the unease in him now.
“Very.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said.
“That’s my big fear, too.”
“You couldn’t … it isn’t possible. You’re beautiful … inside and out; more than I ever expected to find in a woman.”
Ellie felt the same way about him. He made her feel cherished and loved. Compliments didn’t roll off his tongue with practiced ease as if he’d said the same words to a dozen women before her. He seemed just as ill at ease about this first meeting as she was, which reassured her.
“Promise me one thing,” Tom whispered.
“I will if I can,” she whispered back.
“That no matter what happens this weekend, that you’ll …” He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure
how best to continue.
“That I’ll what?” she urged, eager to reassure him nothing would change between them.
Again he paused. “I have to go. Personal phone calls are frowned upon. My supervisor is giving me the eagle eye. I’ll be at the inn to pick you up as soon as I can manage.”
“I’ll be waiting, and Tom, please don’t worry. Everything is going to work out.”
“That’s my hope. Bye for now.”
“Bye,” she repeated. She returned her phone to her purse and heaved a sigh, wondering what it was that had Tom this concerned. Despite reassurances, he seemed to think she’d be disappointed in him, and that wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t possible.
Seeing that Tom was going out of his way to make sure he looked his best for her, Ellie decided she should do the same. Grabbing her purse, she headed down the stairs once again. The woman she’d met on the bus from the airport, Martha, had mentioned that her daughter owned a beauty salon on the main street running through Cedar Cove. Ellie had worn her hair straight and parted down the middle from the time she was in grade school.
She’d taken this first leap toward independence … and that gave her courage to take an additional step and then another. Her heart beat hard and strong. It felt good to venture beyond what she’d always known and always done.
Jo Marie remained busy in her kitchen, implementing the suggestions Ellie had given her. She stood on the step stool, placing taupe shelf-liner paper on the cupboard’s flat surface, although Ellie thought the current liner didn’t look old or worn in the least. In fact, it looked almost new.
“I’m going out for a while,” Ellie told the innkeeper.
“Are you meeting Tom?” Jo Marie asked.
“Not quite yet. He’s still at work. I thought I’d walk down to Harbor Street. There’s a hair salon there … the lady I met on the bus mentioned that her daughter owned it.”
Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel Page 5