Audrey felt anxious but the dog was happy to be held by her, resting the full weight of her head in Audrey’s hands. She stared up with total trust and adoration.
Audrey sighed and petted her silky fur. Do you really have to make this so hard for me? she nearly said out loud. Half of her wanted the vet to find a chip, and the other half screamed, No-o-o-o! Stop!
He finally leaned back and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t find one. It’s usually in the hindquarters or shoulder. I searched her entire body. Nothing.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Audrey said, feeling surprisingly relieved.
She patted the dog’s head one last time and stood up.
The dog stared back and panted as if asking, “Time to go, right?”
“Do you plan to leave her here? Or keep her?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly.
Rob would not be happy if she came back with the dog. But he would get used to the idea. Facing his annoyance seemed a small price to pay at that moment. What chance did the poor thing have here? She was so big and shaggy, no one would adopt her. No one with a nice home would want all that dog hair flying around. At least on the farm, it didn’t matter … that much.
“It’s a big responsibility,” the vet tech said, cutting into her thoughts. “I’m not trying to pressure you.”
“I understand.” Audrey knew she had other things to worry about now, more important priorities. If she had to get fertility treatments, she would be away from the farm a lot and Rob might be, too. The dog would just be an extra worry.
As she tried to decide, the dog leaned against her leg and turned her head to look straight up at her. Audrey automatically gave her a reassuring pat. Just outside the window of the exam room, she heard the lonely, excited dogs, barking in their cold, bare cages.
Could she leave this sweet animal here to face that fate?
“I guess I’ll take her back with me. I’m going to try a little harder to find her owner. Can I come back if I can’t find her home?”
The vet tech smiled; Audrey could tell he was happier with that decision, too. “Absolutely. But if you’re going to take her, she needs a few shots and some ointment for that rash.”
The shelter gave her a discount on the medical costs because the dog was a rescue, but Audrey hadn’t expected to pay any vet bills today. They also gave her a real leash and a few pamphlets on dog care and training.
Back in the truck, they headed for the island. “Well, here we are again,” she said to her cheerful passenger. “I think you knew you didn’t have a microchip. You just let me bring you anyway.”
The dog leaned over and licked her ear.
“Okay, if you’re going to hang around awhile, we need a few ground rules. No chewing shoes or socks. Or stealing the goat food—or people food either,” she added.
The dog seemed to be listening, Audrey noticed. Or maybe just humoring her.
“You’ll hear more from Rob on this subject, I’m sure,” she warned her.
The dog was not fazed. She appeared to smile and stuck her head out the window for the rest of the ride home.
THE crew was filming two scenes on Sunday in town. But Charlotte wasn’t needed for either. She was glad to have some downtime. The inn was very quiet and even Meredith had gone off for the afternoon to explore Newburyport with a few other staffers who were not scheduled to work.
After lunch, Charlotte sat on the porch with her script, reviewing her lines for Monday’s shooting schedule. Liza was out but had promised to take her for a ride around the island when she came back. All Charlotte had seen so far was the beach below the inn, where they had done most of the filming. And the ocean, of course.
She couldn’t seem to focus on the script, and turned her attention to knitting instead. She had found the shop in Cape Light Claire had recommended and picked up yarn and a few supplies to start a knitting project. She had picked a pattern for a hat and matching scarf, a project she could complete before she left the island.
Charlotte was so immersed in her needles and yarn, she didn’t notice Liza, cruising up to the porch on her bike. A crunch of gravel announced the innkeeper’s arrival, and Charlotte suddenly looked up.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Liza slipped off the bike, then took a package from the basket in back. “So you found the knitting shop,” she said, coming up the steps.
“Yes, I was so glad Claire told me about it. Knitting is sort of like meditation for me, except you have something to show for your efforts afterward. Besides, I like to think of the person I’m knitting for when I work on something. It’s like sending waves of love in the stitches.”
“How sweet. I never thought of knitting that way. I should try it. Maybe Claire can teach me.”
“It’s not hard,” Charlotte encouraged her.
“What are you making? Looks like a hat,” Liza observed.
“Yes, it will be,” Charlotte said quickly. She glanced at Liza and changed the subject. “Do you ride your bike around here a lot?”
“When I’m not in too much of a hurry. It’s good for my hips and the environment.”
“I haven’t been on a bike in years.”
“You can take mine out if you like. You’ll get a really good tour of the island on a bike ride,” Liza suggested.
“I’d love that.” Charlotte had reached the end of a row and capped the needles. She liked the idea of seeing more of the island, up close and personal—and incognito. It would be hard to recognize anyone under a bike helmet and sunglasses, she thought. And she could use the exercise, since her personal trainer, who often traveled with her on location, hadn’t been available for this shoot. Charlotte couldn’t afford to return to L.A. flabby. Her next role was a sultry nightclub singer in the 1940s, and all of the costumes were close-fitting.
“Would you like some company? I can come with you,” Liza offered.
Charlotte sensed Liza was just being polite, and a bit overprotective.
“That’s okay. You’ve already had your workout. You probably just want a cold drink and shower.”
“I do,” Liza admitted. “It might be more fun to wander on your own, anyway. There are only two big roads on the island. One goes north and south and the other, east and west. You can’t really get lost, even if you try. I’ll give you a map, and you have your cell phone—”
“I’ll be fine, honestly,” Charlotte cut in. “All I need are some water bottles.”
“No problem. I’ll bring them right out for you.”
A few minutes later, Liza adjusted the bike seat for Charlotte’s long legs and gave her a map with the island’s best sites circled and her cell number written on the bottom of the page.
Charlotte set off, turning right at the bottom of the inn’s long drive and heading for the village center. She glided past the Gilroy Farm and remembered her promise to Audrey to visit. But she was enjoying herself too much to stop. Maybe on the way back, she thought.
It was such a relief to have some time completely on her own. She was always surrounded and even smothered by her coworkers and helpers. The downtime was a real luxury, and she relished the feeling of the sun on her face and the sea-scented breeze that kept her cool as she pedaled along. Even the uphill climbs on the road were invigorating, forcing her muscles to kick into gear.
With the view of the ocean and blue sky to her left and the rolling green meadows of the farm on her right, Charlotte felt elated by the beauty all around her. There was so much open space here, endless blue sky arching over the sea and green spaces. Even though she owned a home on the water back in California, this place felt completely different. It was so empty and untamed. No mini-mansions and postmodern glass boxes marring the landscape.
She thought again about the island legend Colin had told her. She could understand why people here could believe in a story like that. This place was totally enchanting and the more she saw of it, the more she felt it casting its spell on her.
As she pedaled along her mind kept circling back to the idea of angels. She had never given much thought to them before—except to maybe think of them like Santa and the Easter bunny, sweet stories having very little to do with reality. But here the entire notion seemed more believable. The landscape was flat and empty; the sky seemed so vast, merging with the sea. Even the air seemed clearer and full of soft, radiant light.
The island was a unique place, she had no doubt, and she could easily believe it was a place touched by the powers above, a place that was closer to heaven somehow than the rest of the world. She did think there was something to the legend of healing here. She had felt it herself, the day she’d been rescued from the sea. The experience had touched her deeply, transforming her in some way she couldn’t quite understand, and couldn’t deny.
Charlotte pedaled along and soon came to the island’s village center. Seeing the General Store, she decided to go in and explore. She stopped her bike then took off her helmet and sunglasses. She was about to go inside when a group of cyclists swooped into the village, swarming the small square. Dressed in black spandex shorts and colorful biking shirts, the group rode up to the store and dismounted, grabbing their water bottles. She lingered at a distance until one of them pulled off his helmet and waved to her.
Charlotte waved back, then put on her helmet, turned her bike, and kept going. The cyclist stood staring at her, wide eyed. Charlotte wasn’t sure if she’d been recognized, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She pushed on the pedals for some speed and headed on, passing the little tea shop and the medical clinic.
A few minutes later, when it seemed safe to stop, she took out a water bottle and consulted the map. Liza had circled the fishing village at the other end of the island as a spot worth seeing. Liza mentioned that Claire lived there.
The village was on the southwest coast of the island, along a little peninsula called Thompson’s Bend that stuck out in the ocean. Charlotte stared at the circled spot. That was where Colin lived, too. If you didn’t count the lobsters, she hadn’t heard from him since Wednesday, the day he rescued her. And she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since. If she rode out there, maybe she would run into him.
But as she considered the idea, she began to have her doubts. Have you caught some weird bug from all your crazy fans and stalkers? You’ll be doing the same thing to him that you hate people doing to you.
Charlotte suddenly understood the crazy impulse. It wasn’t really stalking. She just wanted to see where he lived. She probably couldn’t pick out his house, but it would be fun to see the neighborhood. Besides, she reasoned as she started off, he’ll be out on his boat on such a perfect day anyway. He’ll never even know I rode by.
Charlotte knew it would have been much better if she could just douse the attraction she felt, not feed it like a fire that was growing inside her. But she just couldn’t resist. Not as long as she was on this island.
The ride to the fishing village wasn’t as short as it appeared on the map, but the scenery was breathtaking and well worth the effort. She finally saw a small wooden sign for the little community stuck to a post in the main road. Charlotte turned down a narrow lane, following the arrow.
Cobblestone streets were not the best for bike riding. As soon as she steered onto the stones, the bike bounced wildly under her and pedaling became much harder. She steered onto a narrow road flanked by tall beach grass and trees, and a mass of low cottages came into view. The main road branched off into narrow lanes, with quaint names, like Teapot, Fish Bone, and Hasty. She was fascinated. She had never seen anything quite like this place, which felt as if it had emerged unscathed from the nineteenth century. It was better than a movie set.
She turned at the corner of Fish Bone Lane and rode along. Some of the mailboxes at the side of the road bore names, but most had only numbers.
She spotted the name North on a mailbox and realized it might be Claire’s cottage. It was just as Charlotte imagined Claire’s home would look, only better. The low white cottage was covered with rambling pink roses on one side and had a brick chimney on the other. The windows were flanked by dark green shutters and offered window boxes full of summer flowers. A few steps led up to a small porch that covered the front of the cottage. The front door was painted bright yellow and some wicker furniture, lanterns, and more flowerpots filled the space. But most remarkable was the garden that filled one side of the front yard and overflowed into the side of the property. Charlotte paused, straddling the bike to get a better look at the rows of carefully tended vegetables and flowers, all mixed together but probably in a carefully considered arrangement. Rows of sunflowers bowed their heavy golden heads in her direction, as if bidding a respectful greeting. Charlotte spotted big ripe tomatoes, curling green squash, and other ripening treasures she couldn’t identify.
Where did Claire get the time to work on this huge garden? she wondered. She seemed to be working at the inn twenty-four hours a day. But she was a remarkable person in her quiet way; Charlotte was coming to see that.
She rode farther along, hoping Colin’s cottage would be as easy to pick out, but she did not see any mailboxes with the name Doyle. She wound her way around the narrow streets, stopping twice to take photos with her cell phone. Then she headed in the direction she had come, hoping she could find her way back.
She was pedaling slowly, feeling every bump of the cobblestone lane. Maybe I should get off and just push the bike awhile. I’m going to pay for this adventure tomorrow morning, she realized, nearly laughing out loud. Still she pedaled along, at a slow, shaky pace, slowing down even more as she came to a corner.
Do I need to make a left here … or right?
A big red pickup truck drove up behind her. Charlotte hadn’t even heard it coming until the last second. She felt a hot blast of air as it drove by. It came so close and she got so rattled, she lost her balance and felt the bike slip out from under her as she tumbled to one side.
It all happened so fast. She put her hands out to brace herself as the ground suddenly rushed up to meet her. The bike went forward and she slipped off sideways, tumbling onto someone’s lawn.
Finally, her flying body came to a stop. She felt the hard ground under her and smelled fresh grass and dirt; she even tasted some in her mouth. She felt a little stunned but pushed herself up just as the truck came to a screeching stop. Her knee stung and her chin hurt. She took a deep breath and bent her leg to take a look.
The driver of the truck jumped out and ran toward her. “Hey, are you all right? Should I call an ambulance?”
She looked up, about to give the guy a piece of her mind, when she suddenly saw that it was Colin.
He stared at her in total shock. He obviously hadn’t recognized her either, under the bike helmet and sunglasses.
“Charlotte? What are you doing out here? On a bike, no less.” He stared at her a long moment, shaking his head. “Can’t we just meet like normal people—without some life-threatening crisis?”
Despite her injuries, which she knew were minor, Charlotte had to laugh. “Good point. We need to work on that.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should have been paying more attention. I must have been daydreaming or something.” He caught sight of her leg and winced. “That must hurt. You scraped your elbow, too.”
Charlotte bent her arm to look at her elbow. “Whoops, I’ll need a little extra makeup on that one. As long as there’s nothing on my face,” she said, feeling suddenly alarmed. “Do you see anything on my chin? I think I banged it on the handlebars.”
She held her face up to him and he leaned close to check. “Looks good to me.” He stared into her eyes a little longer than was necessary. Her heartbeat quickened.
“I’ll be in trouble if I look banged up on camera,” she explained.
Colin gave her a thoughtful look. She could tell he had no idea just how closely she was watched and micromanaged.
“Come on, let me help you up.” He stuck out his ha
nd and she grabbed it, then was lifted off the ground with a single tug. “Can you get yourself over to the truck? I’ll get the bike. You can come back to my cottage and clean up.”
Her knee hurt a little as she limped over to the truck, but it was a small price to pay for a visit to Colin’s house. Despite her little aches and pains, she almost laughed out loud, realizing she had accidentally achieved her goal—though not at all the way she planned.
Colin drove a short distance, making a few quick turns, and finally pulled up to a whitewashed cottage that was set back from the road and surrounded by tall trees. She caught a glimpse of sparkling water through the foliage and realized the back of the house faced the sea.
The driveway was coated with crushed white bits of seashells and made a crunching sound as the truck pulled up to the house. Colin climbed down from behind the steering wheel but Charlotte was slower, trying not to jostle her knee. Before she managed to get down, Colin had come around to her side.
“Here, let me help you. I feel so bad about this. It was so stupid of me.”
He put his hands on her waist and gently swung her down to the ground. They stood like that a long moment. Charlotte swallowed hard, unable to look up at him. She’d had her fair share of romances and wasn’t all that shy with men, but for some reason, it was very different with Colin.
He stepped away and cleared his throat. “Do you need help getting inside?”
“I can manage. All I need is an ice pack. My knee is just a little sore.”
Charlotte’s voice was light, but the blossoming bruises brought back bitter memories. She knew how to care for this type of injury all too well. She’d had a lot of practice hiding black and blue marks over the years. She was a pro at it, and so were her sisters and brother and her poor mother.
She found herself biting down on her lip, fighting back the sudden rush of memories. Colin glanced at her. “Actually, it hurts a lot, right? You just don’t want to tell me.”
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