As he rose, Margaret walked by, dragging Butch, the forty-five-year-old owner of the local market. Margaret shot Charlotte a dirty look as she and Butch headed to the other end of the line.
“Did you see that?” Charlotte asked, socking Andrew in the arm. “Margaret hates me now. She’ll never give me a good table at the Blue Pelican.” Margaret had inherited one of the hottest restaurants in town from her second husband, and there was usually a wait for tables on Friday and Saturday nights.
“If you go with me, she will,” Andrew said, a cocky light in his eyes.
“I was supposed to go with you,” she reminded him.
Discomfort flashed in his eyes. “Right. I need to make that up to you.”
“You never told me what came up.”
“It’s nothing I can share.”
Which made her wonder even more. “Who says I’ll give you another chance?”
“Contestants ready?” the mayor called.
“Time to put your arms around me.” Andrew smiled down at her.
“Ah, now we get to the heart of your evil plan.”
“The best part.” He put his arm around her, pulling her up tight against him.
She put her arm around his waist and was reminded of how well they fit together, how having his arms around her had once been all she could think about.
The whistle blew, and they were off. Despite their tight embrace, their legs soon got tangled up together, and they fell down in a laughing heap halfway across the grass. Andrew tried to pull her up, but after one more step, they were down again. They couldn’t get in sync, which was pretty much how their relationship had always gone—one step forward, two steps back, then utter collapse.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it,” she said, laughing helplessly.
“Oh, we will,” he promised, gazing into her eyes. “You just have to trust me.” He held out his hand.
And suddenly, they weren’t talking about the race anymore.
Joe’s gut clenched at the sight of Andrew and Charlotte tangled up in the grass. Her blond hair was flying around her face, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She looked happy; so did Andrew. They seemed to be a good match. She’d liked Andrew once, maybe even loved him. So why was she resisting Andrew?
Was it because of him? He hadn’t imagined the heat between them in his kitchen the other night or the emotional connection he’d felt when she confided in him about the baby she’d lost.
The fact that she’d trusted him that much had touched him. Despite Charlotte’s outgoing personality, he sensed there were very few people she trusted completely. She’d spent most of her life in the shadow of her father’s heavenly spotlight, afraid to be herself for fear of being judged. But she’d let down her guard with him for a few minutes—then it had gone back up.
Because he was married. Because they both knew they were walking a dangerous line.
As if on cue, his cell phone rang. It was Rachel again. His gut clenched. This was the fourth time she’d called since the divorce papers had arrived, and he had yet to call her back, because what the hell would he say? He didn’t know what he was going to do. Sign the papers and free her up to move to another man, probably to her good pal Mark Devlin? If he didn’t sign the papers, if he prolonged things, where would that get him?
The ringing stopped, followed by the message that he had a new voice-mail. He pushed the button, because he’d been her husband too long to ignore her. If something was really wrong, he’d never forgive himself.
“Joe, it’s Rachel. You have to call me. Your silence is making me crazy. I know I should have told you the papers were coming, but I had to do it. One of us had to force the issue. We can’t just live in limbo, the way we’ve been doing the last year. Call me, please.”
He deleted the message and then hit redial, drawing in a deep breath as Rachel’s voice came over the phone. “What do you want me to do?” he asked her. “Do you really want me to sign the papers without trying to save this thing?”
“This thing is called a marriage,” Rachel said. “And we’ve been trying to save it for a long time, Joe.”
“Have we? You’ve been gone for more than a month. Why don’t you come back here so we can talk?”
“You’ve been gone longer that that,” she countered. “I’m not coming back. I realize now that I’m just not willing to move to Angel’s Bay. I have a life here that I like, a life I don’t want to give up.”
“So you’re willing to walk away from me for your L.A. friends?”
“Aren’t you doing the same thing, for a place you never even heard of until a year ago? How can the people there mean more to you than I do? It’s not just me that’s here—there’s your family, your friends, the men you worked with for more than a decade. I’m not the one who’s ripping apart an entire life. That’s you.”
His stomach churned with the truth of her words.
She paused for a long moment. “If you’ll move back to L.A., Joe, I’ll give it another shot.”
“Otherwise it’s over?” he asked, his heart pounding against his chest. “All or nothing?”
“You could be happy here. You were for a long time. I know you needed to get away to clear your head, but you’ve done that. Now come home.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said tersely, ending the call. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Rachel had finally drawn the line in the sand. He could have her or Angel’s Bay, but he couldn’t have both. Why was he fighting so hard to stay in this place? Rachel was right. There were a lot of people in Los Angeles whom he loved.
He just didn’t know if he loved her the way he should. If he did, would it really be this difficult to leave? And if she loved him as much as she should, would she have filed for divorce? Was it really about Angel’s Bay, or were they just trying to find a simple reason for why they didn’t work anymore?
The mayor got on his megaphone again, announcing the winners of the three-legged race. Andrew and Charlotte had been soundly beaten—but Andrew, with his arm flung around Charlotte’s shoulders, didn’t look unhappy at all.
“Andrew, you can let go of me now,” Charlotte said pointedly. “The race is over, and people are staring at us.”
“Just wait until Margaret leaves,” he said.
He was just using Margaret as an excuse to flirt with her, but he was so damn charming she couldn’t get mad at him. “I’ll give you one more minute, but after that, you’ll have to ward off the cougars on your own.”
“I thought you two would make it a closer race,” Rabbi Ziegler said as he stopped by, proudly holding the gold cup. “Your father and mother never would have let me and Louise beat them,” he told Charlotte.
“I’m sure that’s true,” Charlotte said. “My mother has a very strong will to win.”
“How is she? I haven’t seen her much in recent weeks.”
“She’s all right,” Charlotte said, noting the kindness in his eyes. The rabbi had spent many evenings conversing with her parents about religion and other interests they shared.
“Good. She’s a wonderful woman. This town wouldn’t be the same without her.” He paused. “Andrew, did you have a chance to meet with the Goldmans about the possible adoption?”
“Annie is going to meet them next week.”
“Very good. Will I see you two in the water-balloon toss?”
“Not a chance,” Charlotte said as the rabbi laughed and walked away. “Don’t even think about it, Andrew. I’ve done my duty.”
“You have,” he said, sounding distracted.
She gave him a curious look. “Something wrong?”
“I was just thinking about Annie. Suddenly, there are a bunch of couples interested in adopting her baby, but she needs to tell the biological father before we can proceed. I don’t want to put anyone in the position of thinking they’re going to get the baby, then at the last minute they don’t.”
“I agree.”
“You need to
persuade Annie to do the right thing. She looks up to you. She listens to you.”
“Telling the father might be more complicated than we know. I think he’s probably married or involved with someone else. Annie might be protecting him or protecting his family. Maybe that feels more right to her than telling the truth and ruining a marriage.”
“I can see your point, but in the end, the truth always comes out.”
“Sometimes the truth doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t really believe that,” he said.
“It doesn’t always change things. Sometimes it just hurts.”
His eyes flickered with curiosity. “Are we still talking about Annie? Is there something you want to tell me?”
“No. I have to run. I have a bunch of stuff to do today.”
“Charlotte, wait. Every time we get a little close, you pull away. Are you ever going to let me back into your life?” he asked seriously.
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m going to try to change your mind, Charlie. I believe in second chances.”
But there wasn’t always a second chance. Some mistakes lasted forever.
THIRTEEN
The park was pretty at night, with white lights strung between the trees, local bands playing on the stage, couples on the makeshift dance floor, and buffet tables laden with food and drinks. Brianna had skipped most of the Harvest Festival events, but the Kanes had insisted she join them for a picnic supper. She’d been happy to get out of the house. Her bedroom reminded her of Jason, and the boxes in the garage reminded her of Derek. She’d been caught between the two men for a long time.
“This is so much fun.” Nancy smiled, sliding down the bench seat to nudge Brianna with her shoulder. “Aren’t you glad you came?”
“I am,” she admitted. “The food was excellent. I’m stuffed.”
“Everyone goes all out for these things. We’re lucky the weather cooperated. In a few weeks, we’ll all be inside and wishing for lovely nights like this.”
It was a nice night, crisp, cool, and deliciously aromatic, with the nearby dessert table offering up pumpkin pie, apple tarts, peanut brittle, and oatmeal-raisin cookies.
“Lucas and Kyle are getting along well,” Nancy added. “Every time Kyle sees me now, he asks me if Lucas is coming over.”
Kyle lived next door to the Kanes and was only three months older than Lucas. They’d become fast friends, and today they were kicking a soccer ball back and forth with a third boy. Lucas was having the time of his life, laughing, running, and throwing himself on the ground. Little boys certainly were physical, at least her little boy.
“I can’t believe he has so much energy,” Nancy continued. “Rick said Lucas ran him up and down the beach today with that kite. He came home and took a two-hour nap. They had a lot of fun, though. Rick has become a new man since Lucas’s arrival. He’s got more energy, more hope.” Nancy shot Brianna a quick look. “You’re quiet tonight.”
“Just enjoying the atmosphere.”
“It’s too bad we can’t bottle the innocence of youth,” Nancy said, her focus back on Lucas, who was now turning cartwheels with his friends. “The days of childhood go so fast.” She turned back to Brianna, the hint of tears in her eyes. “When Rick and I first got married, we wanted to have four children. I have three sisters and a brother, and I enjoyed growing up in a big family. But we had trouble getting pregnant. It took almost six years. Derek was like a miracle. After he was born, I got pregnant once move but had a miscarriage, and then nothing. We felt so lucky to have Derek, we spoiled him with love. We couldn’t help ourselves.
“I never thought I could love someone as much as I loved my son,” Nancy continued. “I miss Derek so much, it hurts like an open wound. It’s not right for a mother to outlive her child. He should have been here to enjoy this picnic and watch his son play with the other children. He should have been sitting here with you, his arm around your shoulders.”
Nancy’s words tugged at Brianna’s heart. For a moment, she could see the picture exactly as Nancy had set it up. She could almost feel Derek’s arms around her . . . but then the whisper of warmth fled away. She’d never had that kind of moment with Derek. It was just part of a dream that had never come to life.
“I know you’re angry with me,” Nancy said. “You probably think I overreacted to Jason being in your house. But look at that little boy playing with Lucas. If you saw Kyle knock Lucas to the ground, would you be able to look at him the same way?”
“Probably not,” Brianna admitted. It wasn’t nearly the same situation, but she couldn’t imagine forgiving anyone who hurt Lucas. There was nothing more primal than a mother protecting her child.
But Derek and Jason had stood against each other as men, not as children. And what had once seemed black and white was now filled with endless shades of gray. She’d been blinded by love and swept up in the Kanes’ devotion to their son, their unyielding belief in Derek’s innocence. But Derek himself had told her that he’d done things he wasn’t proud of, that she didn’t really know him. Perhaps his parents didn’t know him, either.
“I know you’ll run into Jason around town, but I hope you won’t let him into your life,” Nancy added. “You’re like my daughter, Brianna, and I couldn’t stand to see him hurt you, too. Rick and I love you.”
Brianna melted. Her parents had rarely told her they loved her, and she doubted they’d ever worried about her. But with Nancy’s love came strings and expectations. No matter how hard they tried, she and Lucas could never replace Derek. And while the Kanes might look at her as their daughter, she was a grown woman, and she needed to make her own decisions about who was or wasn’t going to be in her life.
“I love you, too,” she said, seeing the worry in Nancy’s eyes. For the moment, she would leave it at that.
She reached for her diet soda, only to realize it was empty. “I need another drink. Can I get you something?” At the sudden look of shock on Nancy’s face, she stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong?”
“Your wedding ring. Where is it?” Nancy asked in alarm. “Did you lose it?”
“Oh, no.” She pulled her hand out of view. “It—it slipped off. I’ve lost some weight.” In light of Nancy’s obvious distress, she couldn’t say she’d felt driven to take it off and that not wearing it had brought a sense of freedom she’d never expected.
“You have lost weight, dear. You need to eat more.”
“With your cooking, that won’t be difficult,” Brianna said. “Shall I take Lucas with me?”
“Oh, no, he’s having fun. I won’t let him out of my sight.”
Brianna had no worries about that. Nancy would guard Lucas with her life.
She wandered across the grass, looking for some decaf coffee. As she joined the line, she realized she was right behind Gloria Markham. The dark-haired woman had on a colorful orange and red scarf over her black coat and pants. When she saw Brianna, surprise and discomfort flitted across her eyes.
“Hello,” Gloria said. “It’s a long line,” she added, clearing her throat.
“Yes, it is.” She knew she should use this opportunity to quiz Gloria, but she didn’t know where to start.
They stood for a moment in silence, and then Gloria turned to her. “The other day, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Derek. I never imagined that he would die in prison. It was tragic.”
Brianna saw real pain in Gloria’s expression. She’d thought that Wyatt and the Markhams were united in their dislike of Derek, but it seemed not. “Do you think we could talk for a minute?” she asked impulsively. Maybe Gloria would speak more freely without her husband or Wyatt around.
Gloria hesitated. “I suppose so. Let’s step over there.”
They moved away from the crowd to stand under the canopy of a large tree. “Your husband came to my house the other day,” Brianna said. “I missed him. Do you know what he wanted?”
“No. I didn’t know he’d gone to your house,” Gloria sai
d slowly. “I suppose he wanted to ask you if Derek had left you any clue to where the paintings are. We’d like to get them back.”
“Do you think I’d hang on to them if I had them?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you.”
Brianna stiffened. Gloria wasn’t the first person to believe she’d known what Derek was up to, but it still stung. “Well, I wouldn’t. I’d love to find those paintings and prove that Derek wasn’t the one who stole them.” She paused, debating her next words, then decided to go for it. “Did you know that Victor Delgado had a son?”
Gloria started, then reached up to adjust her scarf as she stalled for time.
“You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your eyes.” Brianna felt a rush of adrenaline. “Wyatt and Derek are descendants of Victor.”
“Where did you hear that?” Gloria asked.
“I found some old letters in Derek’s things. So why would Wyatt be willing to donate those paintings to the museum? Why didn’t he want to keep them in the family?”
“Wyatt always believed that art should be seen by the masses,” Gloria replied. “He’s spent a lifetime encouraging private collectors to share their pieces with the world by lending them to museums and galleries. He would never keep important paintings hidden away in his studio. It’s not who he is. But Derek was different—or at least, he changed over the years. When Derek stopped painting, he traded his soul for cash. He no longer cared about the art, only about what someone was willing to pay for it. You didn’t know that about him, did you? How could you? You barely knew him.”
She didn’t like Gloria’s sneering tone. “You don’t know anything about my relationship with Derek.”
“No? Derek and I had a long talk when he brought you to Angel’s Bay. I wasn’t surprised that he had picked you, because you were beautiful in the way that Derek liked. In fact, he said just that.”
Brianna frowned. “I don’t think—”
In Shelter Cove Page 18