by Irene Hannon
“I’ll have you know that romance knows no age limits, young man,” Edith chided him. “When’s the big day?”
“She’s hoping for May twenty-second. And they want to have the wedding here. Preferably outdoors. I’m supposed to arrange things with Reverend Kaizer.”
“What about a reception?”
“I’m supposed to find someone to arrange that, too.”
“Hmm.” Edith cocked her head. “Will this be a small wedding?”
“Very. No more than fifteen people.”
“I’ll tell you what, Craig. If you think your mother would be interested, I’d be happy to coordinate things on this end.”
Kate gave her a suspicious look. Edith ignored it.
“Are you serious?” Craig stared at her. “Despite the small size, it will still be a lot of work.”
She waved his comment aside. “I don’t mind in the least. Why don’t you discuss it with your mother, and if she’s agreeable have her give me a call.”
“I’ll do that. And thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She checked her watch. “Gotta run. There’s a program on public TV tonight that Chester and I want to catch. Enjoy your evening.” She hustled through the door, pulling it shut behind her.
“Wow.” Craig shook his head. “Is she always such a go-getter?”
“Yes.” Especially when she’s on a mission, Kate thought, though she left that unsaid. But whatever Edith’s hidden agenda, the truth was she’d do a good job for Craig’s mother. “She’s great at coordinating events. She’s a past president of the garden club, and under her supervision we had some of the best Daffodil Festivals ever. Plus, she knows everybody on the island. Count your blessings for the offer.”
“I’m counting my blessings on a lot of fronts these days.”
His comment, rife with personal implications, and the soft light in his eyes sent warmth coursing through her. Turning away, Kate busied herself wiping down the counter.
“I’ll go check on the girls,” he offered.
“Good idea.”
Get a grip, Kate admonished herself as she tried to rein in her overactive imagination. She had to be reading way too much into his remark. Hadn’t he told her he had no interest in romance? Hadn’t she told him the same thing?
Yet try as she might, she couldn’t stifle the tiny flame of hope that flickered to life in her heart.
Craig didn’t hurry back to the kitchen. Instead, he gave in to Maddie’s plea to read the girls a story. He needed some space from the lovely woman who was fast undermining his conviction that he didn’t deserve a second chance at love. Life felt brighter and more vibrant when he was with her. In her presence, the shadows his mother had talked about lightened.
But even if he could get past the guilt, the situation with Kate was complicated. She earned her living on the sea. The same sea that had robbed him of his wife and son. A relationship with her would carry risks. Big risks. Wouldn’t it be testing fate to take that kind of chance?
Yet now that she had roused from hibernation the happy memories of his fulfilling marriage, how would he ever find the strength to cope with the endless parade of solitary months and years stretching ahead?
“You have to read the last line, Lootenin. That’s the best part.”
At Maddie’s comment, Craig refocused his attention on the book in his hands. The last line was the standard fairy-tale ending.
“And they lived happily ever after.”
The words sounded hollow to his ears. Maybe that’s why he’d hesitated. Much as he yearned for one of his own, in his experience happy endings were the stuff of dreams, not reality.
“Will you read us another one, Lootenin?”
At Maddie’s question, he shook his head. “Not tonight. Vicki and I have to go home now.”
“Can’t we stay longer?” Vicki pleaded. “I like it here.”
So did he, Craig agreed. “You’ll see Maddie tomorrow, at Mrs. Shaw’s.”
“Okay, I guess.” She crawled across Maddie’s bed and slid off, reaching for the tattered blanket that was never more than an arm’s length away.
Taking her hand, Craig led her down the hall, Maddie trailing at their heels.
When they reached the kitchen doorway, Kate turned to them. For an instant he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly masked it.
“Heading home?”
“Yes. Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”
“Thank you for arranging the playdate. It gave me a chance to get a lot of work done.”
From the way she said work, he got the impression she wasn’t talking about housecleaning or laundry.
“Did you go down to the Lucy Sue?”
“No.” She gestured to the package Edith had delivered. “In my spare time I do freelance book editing for a publisher in New York. A friend of mine had a connection there and got me in. It’ll never make me rich, but it’s a nice supplement to my income and the hours are flexible. I work on the manuscripts at night, after Maddie’s in bed.”
So Kate had three jobs.
As he processed this new piece of information, Craig recalled her telling him once that despite the financial pressures she faced, she intended to stay on the island. And it was obvious she was doing everything humanly possible to make that happen.
Early in their relationship, Craig had concluded Kate was strong. But she was more than strong, he now realized. She was a survivor. The kind of woman who might get discouraged but who would keep fighting until every last piece of ammunition was gone.
“You’re amazing.”
Her eyes widened, and a faint, becoming blush stained her cheeks. But she sidestepped his compliment. “Stubborn is more like it.”
“I stand by my first comment. But I do have one question. When do you sleep?”
Her blush deepened. “Quality is more important than quantity. And I sleep better knowing I’m solvent.”
“What’s solvent?”
At Maddie’s question, Kate shot her daughter a surprised glance, as if she’d forgotten there was an audience to their conversation. Truth be told, he, too, had forgotten the presence of the children as he focused on the extraordinary woman across from him.
“It means different things for different people, honey. For me, it means happy.”
“Oh. I guess I’m solvent, too, then.”
Craig grinned, and Kate smiled back. “Let me get your coats.”
After retrieving them, she helped Vicki zip hers up while Craig slid his arms into his leather jacket. Opening the door, Kate stepped back, one hand still on the knob, the other resting on Maddie’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s going to rain again. Drive safe.”
Go! Just say good-night and go! The compelling command echoed in Craig’s mind. And he knew he should listen to it.
But Kate looked so appealing. The golden light on the hall table spilled across her cheeks, warming her skin and gilding her hair. And how could he ignore the soft, unspoken invitation in her emerald eyes, the one he suspected she wasn’t even aware of? Or the call of her satiny smooth skin?
In the end, he couldn’t.
Leaning close, he brushed his lips against the gentle curve of her cheek. Lingered. Drew back.
“Good night, Kate.”
She didn’t respond.
Taking Vicki’s hand, he led the little girl into the night and toward his car, shaken by the step he’d just taken.
To an onlooker, the kiss would have appeared to be innocent. Casual. The kind often exchanged by mere acquaintances.
But for them, he sensed it had been a prelude.
A dip of the toes to test the water.
Kate had been startled by his touch. Too startled to react. He’d have to wait until they next met to get a read on how she viewed it.
As for his own reaction—it had been anything but casual.
Because that simple touch of lips to cheek had left him wanting more.
And he had no idea what to do abou
t that.
Later, long after Maddie had been tucked in for the night, long after Kate should have been asleep, she lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling in her room. Remembering the touch of Craig’s lips against her cheek.
Lifting her hand, she pressed her fingers to the spot. Drew in a long, slow breath.
But the calming technique did nothing to quiet her restlessness.
Shoving the covers back, she swung her feet to the floor, grabbed her robe and padded down the hall toward the living room. After flipping on a light, she tucked her legs under her on the sofa and focused on Mac’s painting, letting its quiet beauty seep into her soul.
As usual, she found herself appreciating anew the sensitive rendering that reflected the soul of a man in love with life. A man who’d been able to find beauty in unexpected places and whose masterful talent had allowed others to see the world as he saw it. A man who’d always seized opportunities for joy, who’d believed in the heart’s infinite capacity to love.
Of all people, Mac would understand that nothing could ever diminish what they’d shared. The man who’d stolen her heart and filled her days with sunshine and beauty and grace, who’d taught her that life was to be embraced, would understand that the part of herself she’d given to him would be his, and his alone, for always. And he would want her to move on. To love again if the opportunity came along.
She knew that now.
Yet the fear of loving—and losing—remained. While Craig appeared to be healthy and vibrant, Mac had exuded vigor, too. Yet, as Kate had learned, life didn’t come with guarantees—at any age. And she didn’t know if she could live with that constant worry.
As she wrestled with indecision, the clock on the mantel began to intone the hour. She listened as twelve steady, predictable bongs echoed in the quiet room. A room where she ended each day the same way.
Alone.
And lonely.
But perhaps God was offering her an opportunity to change that if she could find the courage to open herself to love. To encourage the interest Craig had displayed tonight.
Kate’s instincts pushed her toward self-preservation. Yet her parched heart yearned for love, much as the plants in her garden needed the restoring rain the approaching storm would bring.
It was a dilemma for which she had no answer.
Rising wearily, Kate took one more look at the painting before she returned to bed. And sent a short, silent plea heavenward.
Lord, please guide me as I struggle to determine Your will for me. Don’t let fear hold me back…but don’t let my own needs and loneliness cloud my judgment, either. And give me the courage to put fear aside and claim the future You have planned for me—whatever it may be.
Chapter Eleven
Craig emptied his pockets of change and set the coins on the dresser in his room, stifling a yawn. It had been a hectic, crisis-filled day at the station, leaving him tired and on edge. And things at home had been stressful, too. Vicki had picked at her dinner, balked at taking a bath and turned thumbs down on all the books he’d suggested as a bedtime story.
Missing her nap today hadn’t helped her disposition, he supposed. But thanks to the asthma attack Maddie had suffered, the girls’ routine had been disrupted. Edith had told him about it when he’d picked up Vicki, warning him she’d been upset by the incident. During the evening he’d tried to get his daughter to talk about it, but she’d wanted nothing to do with the subject, closing up as tight as a Nantucket quahog when he broached the topic.
Picking up the photo on his dresser, he ran a finger over the smooth koa-wood frame, a familiar pang echoing in his heart as memories of happier times surfaced. He’d always loved this family picture, a casual four-by-six snapshot taken on a weekend trip to Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island a couple of years before the tragic accident. The dramatic, black lava rock had provided the perfect backdrop for their laughing, animated faces, offering a sharp contrast to Aaron’s light brown hair and Nicole’s long, wavy blond mane.
The sudden pressure of tears behind his eyes surprised him. It had been a long time since he’d gotten emotional over the events that had upended his world, and the unexpected loss of control threw him. Get a grip, he admonished himself. This is history. You need to—
“Daddy?”
At Vicki’s soft question, he jerked toward her. She was standing two feet away, clutching an empty plastic cup, her ratty blanket trailing behind her.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he returned the photo to the dresser. “Do you need some water?”
She nodded.
“Coming right up.” He took the cup from her hand.
She didn’t follow him to the kitchen, as he expected. And when he headed back down the hall, thinking she’d returned to bed, he stopped short when he found her still in his room, her back to the door, contemplating the photo on his dresser.
“I have your water, Vicki. You can drink it in your room.”
She spoke without turning. “Where’s me?”
Her plaintive, forlorn question twisted his gut.
Setting the glass on the chest next to the door, he moved beside her. “That was taken before you were born, honey.”
A few seconds of silence ticked by as she inspected it. “Is that my mommy?”
“Yes. And that’s Aaron, your brother.”
She looked up at him. “How come the picture makes you sad?”
Apparently she’d been standing there watching him longer than he’d thought, Craig concluded. “Because I miss them.”
“Would you miss me if I was gone?”
At her wistful tone, the pressure once more built behind his eyes. “Of course I would.”
She turned again to the picture. “But how would you remember me?”
For such a tiny thing, she sure knew how to rip the heart right out of him.
“You’re right. I need some more pictures. I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow, on my lunch hour, I’m going to buy a camera so I can take pictures of us together. Would you like that?”
She examined the photo again. Rather than answer his question, she asked another of her own. “Do you think my mommy was pretty?”
Craig tried to stop the tears from welling in his eyes, but it was a losing battle as he knelt beside his daughter. “She was beautiful, honey.” His words came out raspy. Raw. He cleared his throat. “Just like you are. In fact, your hair is exactly the same color as hers was. It makes me think of your mommy.”
She gave him the solemn look that always made him wonder what was going on in her little mind. He braced for more questions, but to his surprise she edged around him and walked toward the door. “Can I have my water now?”
“Sure.” He rose and picked up the glass off the dresser. When he handed it to her, she took a long drink and passed it back. Without a word, she traipsed back down the hall toward her room, trailing her blanket behind her.
He followed, sensing he was missing some important cue, but for the life of him he didn’t know what it was. Or how to figure it out.
“How about that story now?” He fiddled with the covers as she climbed into bed, delaying his departure. Despite the late hour, he felt the need to be close to her.
“No, thank you.” She tucked the blanket under her chin, snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes.
He’d been dismissed.
Baffled, Craig retreated to his own room. Moving to the window, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Ominous clouds had begun to mass at sunset, and now the moon and stars were hidden behind a black mantle. A threat of rain hung in the air, and a pervasive chill had settled over the island.
The unsettled weather matched his mood—and he didn’t know why. Vicki appeared to be calm. There’d been no tears. No tantrums. No displays of temper.
Yet he couldn’t help feeling that somehow he’d just made a big mistake.
Three days had passed since their spaghetti dinner with the girls, and Kate was still trying to interpret the look in C
raig’s eye and the kiss he’d dropped on her cheek as they’d parted.
More importantly, she was still struggling to come to grips with her own reaction. And until she got a handle on her feelings, she’d decided to cut a wide swath around the handsome lieutenant.
But tonight was dicey. She’d been delayed at school, attending another endless faculty meeting. Craig’s car wasn’t in front of Edith’s house when she pulled onto Lighthouse Lane, but he could arrive any second. She needed to get Maddie ASAP and make a fast retreat.
Parking her car, she headed straight for Edith’s back door. But Chester waylaid her in the yard.
“Afternoon, Kate. Do you have a minute?”
Casting a wishful look at the back door, Kate veered off the path toward the older man, who was at last putting the finishing touches on the guest cottage. “What’s up, Chester?”
“Would you mind holding this door knocker in place while I screw it on? It’ll only take a minute, and I could use another pair of hands. Edith’s been too busy with the girls to help me out today.”
“Sure.”
The one minute stretched to five, with Kate growing more antsy by the second. When at last Chester stepped back and pronounced the job done, she took off at a trot for the door. “Gotta run, Chester. It’s looking good.”
“Thanks.” He acknowledged her compliment with a wave and went back to work.
Edith opened the door before she even knocked, greeting her with a grin. “I see Chester put you to work.”
“He needed another set of hands.” She tried not to sound anxious. “Sorry for the delay today.”
“No problem.” The other woman cocked her head. “Are you in a rush?”
“Yes. Lots to do tonight. Is Maddie ready?”
“The girls have been engrossed in a puzzle, and I didn’t want to disturb them until you got here. Come on in and I’ll get her jacket.”
Kate followed her into the kitchen. In the adjacent sunroom, Maddie and Vicki were kneeling on their chairs, elbows on the glass-topped wrought iron table, fitting oversize puzzle pieces together.
“Here we go.” Edith reentered the kitchen. “Maddie, your mommy’s here.”