Home at Rose Cottage
Page 1
Dear Friend,
Many of us feel nostalgic when remembering a favorite childhood summer vacation. I’ve been fortunate enough to go back to the same home on the Potomac River every summer from the age of four right on up to today. I won’t say how many years that’s been now, but my home in Colonial Beach, Virginia, is filled with special memories. Just sitting on the front porch with a good book and a spectacular river view is all that’s required to take me back in time.
It was on that porch that I first conceived the idea for the Rose Cottage Sisters, a series about four strong women who each return home to Rose Cottage when facing a crisis in their lives. They come to this beloved house soul weary and in search of peace. What they find is a sanctuary and love.
In this volume, you’ll read about Melanie D’Angelo in Three Down the Aisle and Maggie D’Angelo in What’s Cooking? In the second volume, Return to Rose Cottage, coming soon, you’ll meet their two sisters and the men who change their lives.
I hope each of you has a special place like Rose Cottage in your life, one that brings back fond memories or brings you peace in times of trouble. If not, I hope this visit to Rose Cottage will bring just a little of its magic and serenity into your life, as well.
All best,
Praise for the novels of New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Sherryl Woods
“Woods…is noted for appealing character-driven stories that are often infused with the flavor and fragrance of the South.”
—Library Journal
“A whimsical, sweet scenario…the digressions have their own charm, and Woods never fails to come back to the romantic point.”
—Publishers Weekly on Sweet Tea at Sunrise
“Woods’ readers will eagerly anticipate her trademark small-town setting, loyal friendships, and honorable mentors as they meet new characters and reconnect with familiar ones in this heartwarming tale.”
—Booklist on Home in Carolina
“Timely in terms of plot and deeply emotional, the third Chesapeake Shores book is quite absorbing. The characters are handled well and have real chemistry—as well as a way with one-liners.”
—RT Book Reviews on Harbor Lights
“Sparks fly in a lively tale that is overflowing with family conflict and warmth and the possibility of rekindled love.”
—Library Journal on Flowers on Main
“Launching the Chesapeake Shores series, Woods creates an engrossing…family drama.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Inn at Eagle Point
“Woods is a master heartstring puller.”
—Publishers Weekly on Seaview Inn
SHERRYL WOODS
Home at Rose Cottage
Also by New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Sherryl Woods
HONEYSUCKLE SUMMER*
SWEET TEA AT SUNRISE*
HOME IN CAROLINA*
HARBOR LIGHTS***
FLOWERS ON MAIN***
THE INN AT EAGLE POINT***
WELCOME TO SERENITY*
SEAVIEW INN
MENDING FENCES
FEELS LIKE FAMILY*
A SLICE OF HEAVEN*
STEALING HOME*
WAKING UP IN CHARLESTON
FLIRTING WITH DISASTER
THE BACKUP PLAN
DESTINY UNLEASHED
FLAMINGO DINER
ALONG CAME TROUBLE**
ASK ANYONE**
ABOUT THAT MAN**
ANGEL MINE
AFTER TEX
Look for Sherryl Woods’s next novel
RETURN TO ROSE COTTAGE
available December 2010
CONTENTS
THREE DOWN THE AISLE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
WHAT’S COOKING?
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Three Down the Aisle
Prologue
The tears on her cheeks were still damp and her temper was still hot, when someone—no, not just someone, the family calvary—pounded on the door of Melanie’s Boston apartment. Before she could drag herself off the sofa, the door burst open and all three of her sisters swooped into her tiny studio looking a bit like outraged avenging angels.
If Melanie hadn’t been so completely and totally miserable and humiliated, she might have managed to smile at their ready-for-anything attitude. Had her sisters gotten here before she’d kicked Jeremy the weasel to the curb, he’d probably be quaking in his two-hundred-dollar designer loafers.
The D’Angelo sisters were something else. Singly, they had their own distinctive personalities and achievements, but united they were a force to be reckoned with. And nothing united them like a common enemy—in this case the man who’d lied to Melanie for more than six months.
Maggie and Jo settled on either side of her, patting her hands and murmuring inept but well-meant platitudes about how things would improve, how she was better off without the lying, cheating scoundrel and on and on until Melanie wanted to scream.
Ashley, she noticed, was saying nothing, but her agitated pacing and the flags of color on her cheeks suggested that an explosion was in the offing. Ashley took her duties as the oldest and most successful of the D’Angelo sisters seriously. She also had their father’s volatile temper. Melanie eyed her warily.
“Ash, maybe you should sit down,” she suggested quietly. “You’re giving us all whiplash trying to follow you.”
Her big sister responded with a frown. “I don’t think so. I’m trying to decide whether to haul this Jeremy’s sorry butt into court or just hunt him down and pound him to a pulp.”
The rest of the sisters exchanged a look. With Ashley, neither option was entirely out of the question. She had a law degree, a powerful sense of justice, a protective streak and a right hook that deserved respect.
“What good would any of that do, Ash?” Jo the peacemaker inquired cautiously. “Getting your name splashed in the papers along with the whole tawdry reason for your behavior would only prolong Melanie’s pain and humiliate her in front of the entire world. Then everyone would know that the creep pulled the wool over her eyes for months. Do you actually want Dad to find out about this? You’ll be in court defending him on a murder charge.”
Ashley sighed. “True.”
They all fell silent, considering Jo’s warning. Their father was a lusty, boisterous Italian who’d put the fear of God into more of their dates than any of them cared to recall. And those were the nice guys. Jeremy the weasel wouldn’t stand a chance against their father’s outrage.
Ashley peered intently at Melanie. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do something? There are lots of ways to get even that don’t involve bloodshed.”
“Nothing,” Melanie assured her hurriedly. “It’s bad enough that you all know that Jeremy managed to hide a wife and two kids from me, that I believed him every single time he evaded my questions about why we couldn’t see each other on the weekends, why we spent so litt
le time in public. He made it all sound perfectly reasonable.”
“What made him get around to telling you tonight? A guilty conscience?” Maggie asked.
“Hardly,” Melanie admitted. “I ran smack into him while they were all out buying new sneakers for the kids. Even then, he tried to drag me out of sight and tell me some lie about how he was just being dutiful, that it didn’t mean a thing, that the marriage was on its last legs. Blah, blah, blah. Idiot that I am, I probably would have listened, too, if his wife hadn’t seen us and given him a look that would have frozen anyone else on the spot. Something tells me that this isn’t the first time Jeremy’s been caught straying by his wife. Her radar was on full alert. How he managed to get away from her to come over here to try one more time to explain is beyond me.”
“You didn’t listen to a word he had to say, did you?” Ashley demanded.
“Of course not. By then you all were on your way. I wanted him long gone when you got here.” She sighed. “How stupid was I? I should have done the math on this months ago.”
Jo grinned as she nudged Melanie in the ribs. “You always were lousy at math.”
“Not funny, baby sister,” Melanie retorted. “What am I going to do now? I certainly can’t continue working at Rockingham Industries. If this isn’t proof that you should never get involved with someone at the same company—even a company as huge as Rockingham—I don’t know what is. My stomach twists into a knot just at the thought of seeing him again. And to think that only a day ago, I did everything I could to bump into him in the hallways.”
“You need to get away, take some time off,” Maggie said, her expression thoughtful. “And I know the perfect place.”
“I need to get another job,” Melanie corrected. “I know I wasn’t exactly on the fast track at Rockingham, but that receptionist’s job did pay the rent.”
“You don’t need to look right away,” Ashley insisted. “If you’re short on cash, I can lend you whatever you need.”
“Says the high-powered criminal defense attorney who’s rolling in dough and has no time to spend it,” Jo said. “The rest of us will chip in, too.”
“Agreed,” Maggie said at once.
Ashley nodded. “There, that’s taken care of. And I think I see exactly where Maggie was going a minute ago. You should go to Grandma’s cottage, Melanie. We always thought it was magical there. I can’t imagine a more perfect place to get your head on straight.”
“We were kids,” Melanie pointed out. “It was summer vacation. Of course we thought it was magical. Notice that none of us has been back since we grew up. Not even Mom goes down anymore, now that Grandma’s dead. The place is probably a wreck.”
“All the more reason to go,” Ashley said, obviously warming to Maggie’s idea. “Fixing up the cottage will be just what you need. It’s probably worth a fortune. If no one’s ever going to use it, maybe we can talk Mom into selling.”
“She’ll never do it,” Maggie said. “You know how sentimental she is about that place.”
Ashley waved off the comment. “Beside the point.”
“What is the point?” Jo asked. “I’m losing track.”
“Fixing the house up will keep Melanie’s mind occupied all day, and by night she’ll be so exhausted, she’ll fall right to sleep,” Ashley explained. “The rest of us can take turns going down weekends to keep her company.”
“Am I such an embarrassment that you can’t wait to get rid of me?” Melanie asked plaintively.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go away someplace where she’d be all alone with only her thoughts for company. Grandma’s place, Rose Cottage, was on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay at the tip of Virginia’s Northern Neck. With the recent growth of the region, she doubted it was as isolated and tranquil as it had once been, but by Boston standards it was still rural. She doubted there was a movie theater or a mall for miles, much less a Starbucks.
“This isn’t a banishment,” Ashley insisted.
“But why should I give Jeremy the satisfaction of running away?” Melanie argued. “He’s the scumbag.”
“She has a point,” Jo said.
Ashley scowled at both of them. “So, what are you suggesting? You’ll face him down every morning when he walks in the front door at Rockingham? That sounds like fun.”
Actually it sounded like hell, Melanie was forced to admit.
“Come on, Melanie. You know I’m right,” Ashley persisted. “This is a chance to heal. You’ll have time to decide what you want to do next. It’s about time you put that college degree of yours to use. You were wasting your talent at Rockingham on the off chance that someday there would be an opening in the marketing department. This could be the best thing that ever happened to you, if it finally gets you to find the right job, instead of something safe but boring.”
At the moment, with her heart aching and her pride wounded, Melanie couldn’t quite see tonight’s turn of events as any sort of blessing, but Ashley usually knew best. “If you say so,” she said bleakly.
“Would you rather sit in this apartment and mope?” Ashley demanded.
“No,” Melanie said firmly. She’d never moped in her life, and she didn’t intend to start now, not over the likes of Jeremy Thompson of the Providence and Nantucket Thompsons. How had she let herself be fooled by that impeccable breeding? Charm and a pedigree didn’t mean a man had character.
“Good. That’s settled, then,” Ashley said. “We’ll help you pack. You can leave first thing in the morning. It’s a long drive, and you’ll want to get there while it’s still daylight.”
“I haven’t even turned in my resignation at work,” Melanie protested. Not that she had any great desire to show her face around there as long as there was any chance at all she could bump into Jeremy.
“Fax it in,” Ashley said curtly. “If anyone questions it, tell them to take it up with Jeremy. Let him explain. Maybe they’ll fire his sorry butt. Or, have them call me, and I’ll explain a few facts about sexual harassment.”
“It wasn’t—” Melanie began, only to have her big sister cut her off.
“It was close enough,” Ashley said. “He dangled the prospect of a better job in front of you, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Melanie admitted. Even so, despite the appeal of a little vengeance, she still wasn’t entirely convinced.
They’d all been brought up with a strong sense of duty and responsibility. Responsible people gave two weeks’ notice before walking out on a job, even a job they hated, even a job that clearly had never had any future. Surely her sisters had learned that lesson, too.
“But—” she began.
“No buts,” Ashley said firmly.
Melanie sighed. “Okay, then. How am I supposed to get the key from Mom without telling her the whole ugly story?” she asked, grabbing at straws to keep from facing the inevitability of this trip. Their mother, to all outward appearances, might be a gentle Southern belle, but she had the same kind of iron will their father had. She was every bit as capable as Max D’Angelo of making Jeremy’s life hell. She’d been inspired by Gone with the Wind, so much so that three of her four daughters had been named after characters and the author. Only Jo had escaped that fate. They teased Jo all the time that it was only because their mother has secretly thought of herself as Scarlett.
“Don’t worry about Mom.” Ashley dug into her huge purse and pulled out an old-fashioned key attached to a piece of rose-colored satin ribbon. “I keep a spare in my purse,” she said, looking vaguely embarrassed.
Melanie, Jo and Maggie stared at her. “Why?”
“It’s like a talisman,” she said defensively. “Whenever things get really, really crazy and frantic at work, I take it out and remind myself that there is life after court. There are days when I would go to Rose Cottage if I could.”
“But you haven’t been there in years,” Melanie said, bemused by this rare display of sentiment and frivolity in her hard-as-nails big sister.
Ashley
winked. “Obviously just knowing it’s there works like a charm.”
Melanie sighed. If only the cottage would hold a few of those magical healing properties for her, she’d be eternally grateful. Right now, with the image of those kids and his wife’s icy disdain in her head and Jeremy’s stinging admission still ringing in her ears, she had her doubts.
1
Every morning when Mike drove his daughter to school past the old Lindsey cottage, he bit back a sigh of regret over its decrepit state. It was like a neglected doll’s cottage, abandoned by a fickle child who’d moved on to other toys. The screens on the side porch had been torn by vandals, the front steps sagged, the paint was peeling. One dangling shutter slapped against the side of the house whenever there was any sort of breeze.
The house sat on a valuable piece of property that backed up to the Chesapeake Bay. From the road, the view was all but invisible thanks to the overgrown grass and shrubbery, but it had to be incredible. That anyone could abandon such a place and leave it to the elements to be destroyed was a crime. If they weren’t going to use it, they should sell to someone who’d take proper care of it.
But if the sorry state of the house bothered Mike, it was the garden that made him want to leap from the car with his pruning shears, rakes and shovels. Landscape design was his passion, and he could tell that once upon a time, this place had been a garden showcase. Someone had nurtured the roses that struggled to bloom there now. Someone had given thought to the placement of the lilacs right beneath the windows where the fragrance would drift in on a spring morning.