The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge

by Stewart, Mariah

  “That would seem like a smart thing to do.” Sophie tried to hide the surge of hope that sped through her.

  “I’m sure I’ll hear either way.”

  “You think she’ll call you when she makes up her mind?”

  “I’m sure I’ll hear about it when I pick her up on Sunday mornings for church. I told her I’d drive her whenever she wants to go.” Violet smiled again. “It’s the charitable thing to do …”

  Diary ~

  Well, what a nice surprise I had at Cuppachino this morning! Sophie Enright is in town visiting her brother for a week. She’s a lovely girl, and I know that her grandfather is tickled that she’s going to be around for a few days. He’d never admit it—not in a million years—but he must miss his son, Craig—her father—terribly. Whatever happened between father and son, between mother and son, it’s not mine to say. I do know that being separated from your children for a long period of time can break your heart. To have your children stay away because you’ve sent them away, well, I cannot imagine. I know that my son stays away because he’s chosen a life that sends him into other parts of the world where maybe he can do some good. Keeping the peace, he says, even when I know that some of the places he goes to are in a state of civil war. And yet he’ll call whenever he can, he writes when the spirit moves him, and I know that if I ever truly needed him, he’d come home. Ford knows that he is loved, and we are confident that he loves us in return. I cannot bear to think of a time when we would not speak or communicate in some way. I don’t know how Curtis has lived these last … dear me, could it be twenty or more years already? Yes, I believe it has been. How could he stand to not see the face of his child in all that time? Yes, of course, I’ve heard the stories of Craig’s failed marriages and the families he’s abandoned, of the scandals and the allegations of fraud committed against a client. Still, when it’s your flesh and blood, do you not still love even when the actions may have been unlovable?

  I’m thanking my creator tonight that I’ve never had to make that choice, and I pray that I never will.

  ~ Grace ~

  Chapter 8

  Jason drove his pickup to the end of Curtis Enright’s driveway and parked in front of the old stone carriage house. He’d barely gotten out of the cab when he heard his name called.

  “Jason!” Curtis came toward him across the uneven lawn, a weathered walking stick in his right hand.

  I’m going to level off that section, Jason thought as he saw the old man wobble slightly and pause to steady himself on the bumpy terrain. After we get rid of the moles.

  “Hey, chief.” Jason walked to meet him so that his client wouldn’t have to navigate over the increasingly lumpy ground. “I was just about to come up to the house. You didn’t have to walk all the way down here.”

  “Nonsense. A man has to get his exercise somehow.” The old man’s eyes sparkled.

  “Seems like moles are tearing up the lawn down here. It looks like they have a series of condos that reach almost to the river.” Jason bent down to inspect the ruts in the ground.

  “I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in taking care of the far-back portion of the property,” Curtis admitted. “Other than having the grass mowed and the trees pruned from time to time, I haven’t paid as much attention as I might have. Guess I’m paying for that now. So how do we get rid of them?”

  “I can have someone come in and take care of the problem.”

  “Good, good. Whatever you need to do. I’d hate to see someone trip and break an ankle.”

  That would most likely be you, Jason thought. Aloud, he said, “I’ll have someone out by the end of the week. In the meantime, let me show you what we’re going to be doing in the big garden starting next week.”

  They started toward the house, Jason slowing his pace to match Curtis’s, though he didn’t mind that it took a few minutes longer to reach the other side of the yard. He enjoyed the company of the older man—looked forward to it, actually. Jason had never known either of his own grandfathers, but he thought he would have liked one of them to be a little like Curtis Enright. It wasn’t so much about the fact that Curtis was prosperous as it was about his spirit. Jason had been comfortable in his company since the first time they’d met to talk about possible refurbishing of the grounds. There was something about the old guy that clicked with Jason, something that made being around him a pleasure.

  “Let’s go on inside.” Curtis pointed his walking stick toward the back door. “Bring your plans in and we’ll take a look.”

  “I’ll grab the folder from the truck and meet you in the house.”

  Jason waited until Curtis safely reached the flat part of the yard before grabbing his work folder from the front seat. Curtis was already inside by the time Jason caught up with him.

  Curtis glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Four o’clock,” he muttered. “Well, it’s six o’clock somewhere. How ’bout a beer while we go over those drawings of yours?”

  When Jason hesitated, Curtis added, “Unless you have another client this late in the day …”

  “Done for the day after this. A beer would be great, thanks.”

  Curtis went to the refrigerator and removed two bottles. “Jesse dropped off some of that new beer Clay and Wade are working on. Blueberry honey beer. Sounds more like one of Steffie’s ice-cream flavors than beer, you ask me. But no. Beer.” He shook his head. “Blueberry honey beer.”

  “I had some the other night. It’s pretty good, actually.”

  “I remember when beer’s flavor was beer.” Curtis went into the butler’s pantry and returned with two pilsner glasses. “You may not remember, but beer didn’t used to come in flavors.”

  “I remember.” Jason felt mildly amused. “I’m not that young.”

  “It’s all relative, my boy.” Curtis opened one of the bottles, poured the beer down the side of the glass, and handed both glass and bottle to Jason, then repeated the process for himself. When his own glass had been poured, he gestured toward one of the doors leading from the kitchen. “Let’s take these into the library. You can spread your plans on the table in there and we can take a look.”

  Jason followed Curtis through one of the doors and into the grand entry hall. A table held a lamp, a large painted vase filled with branching arms of forsythia, and a pair of silver candleholders. Jason thought he detected the faintest hint of gardenia in the air.

  “Mrs. Anderson’s touch.” Curtis pointed at the vase as they passed by. “She thought the house looked dreary last week, so she cut some bare branches and brought them in to force them into bloom. Looks like it worked. Flowers popped out over yesterday afternoon. Does look brighter.”

  He continued walking as he spoke, pausing only to open a door on their left, then stood aside for Jason to enter.

  “Feel a little chilly in here?” Curtis asked Jason.

  “Maybe a little.” Jason pointed to the fireplace. “I could build you a fire.”

  “That would be nice.” Curtis nodded and looked pleased by the offer. “Thank you.”

  “You chop all this wood yourself?” Jason asked as he selected a few lengths of wood from the black iron cauldron where they were stacked and piled them on the hearth.

  Curtis chuckled. “Ah, it’s been years since I so much as carried the stuff into the house. Jesse had someone cut it from some branches that fell from an old oak last year.”

  “I bet you’re glad Jesse lives so close.” Jason crumpled some newspaper and placed it under the rack upon which he’d stacked several pieces of wood.

  “Couldn’t be happier. He’s the future of Enright and Enright, and he’s grown into a good man. I’m delighted to have him around. Wish I could convince his sister to come aboard.” Curtis eased himself into a seat at the table facing the fireplace. “Matches are in the box on the mantel.”

  I wouldn’t mind having Jesse’s sister around full time, either.

  Jason struck a match and held the flame to the newspaper, all
owing the fledgling fire to crackle for a moment or two before using the bellows to gently urge it upward to the logs. When the logs caught and the fire began to settle into the wood, he replaced the bellows onto the iron rack that had held it.

  “Very nice.” Curtis nodded. “Thank you. You get old, you can’t be too warm.”

  “This really is quite the library.” Jason took in the entire sweep of walls that were lined with shelves almost to the ceiling. He’d seen pictures of rooms like this but he wasn’t certain such rooms existed these days. “That’s some collection of books you’ve got there.”

  “Enrights have all been readers, apparently. There are books there that ancestors of mine had decades ago. Every subject you can imagine. Go ahead, take a look if you’d like.” Curtis pointed to the wall of shelves.

  Jason pushed back from the table and walked around it, approaching the shelves with a sort of wonder. He’d never seen so many books in a private home.

  “Quite an assortment.” He glanced from bookshelf to bookshelf. “The Complete Works of Ellery Queen. My dad had those.”

  “Your dad a mystery fan?”

  “He was. He’s been gone for a long time.” Jason turned back to the shelves. “I like that you have modern mystery writers on the same shelf. Harlan Coben and James Lee Burke, P.D. James alongside Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Nice.”

  “All my favorites. If you see something you like, feel free to borrow it.”

  “Thanks. I’m afraid I don’t have much time for reading these days.” Jason’s gaze rested on a large volume. “Frank J. Scott’s Victorian Gardens,” he read aloud. “The Art of Beautifying Suburban Home Grounds.”

  “You know the book?”

  “I paid eight dollars for a used copy years ago. It’s a classic. First published in 1870.” He touched the spine reverently. “This was the major style book of the Victorian period. He was one of the first to propose that gardens were supposed to enhance the house they were built around.”

  “What was the previous thought?” Curtis asked. “What else would they enhance?”

  “Nature. The naturalists believed that gardens should enhance their natural surroundings. Scott—and a few others—thought the landscape should add beauty to the house. That you should see something beautiful when you looked out of every window.”

  Jason’s eyes lingered for a long moment on the Scott, his fingers itching to pull the book from its place and open it to check the copyright date. He’d bet everything he had that it was a first edition from 1870. He’d never been that close to one before. He had his secondhand copy, a reissue, and he’d seen the original reproduced online, but there was nothing like seeing a first edition. He sighed, then went back to the table.

  Jason put the coveted book from his mind and got back to the business at hand. “Did I tell you I bought some property out on River Road for my business?”

  “No, you didn’t. What do you have in mind?”

  Jason took a seat and one long swig of beer, then described his plans.

  “It sounds ambitious,” Curtis noted.

  “It’s pretty much what I had back in Florida.”

  “So you already have a business plan.”

  “I do. Now, as far as your project is concerned, I have several tons of mulch on order—different types, so you let me know what you prefer for out back and I’ll order that now. There will be a lot of topsoil coming in another month or so, and I’m buying some equipment from a local guy who’s retiring, so I’ll have my own Bobcat.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to have quite an operation.” Curtis smiled approvingly. “Good for you. I like to see initiative.”

  “I’ve got plenty of that.” Jason took another sip before opening the folder he’d brought with him. “Now, if you want to take a look at the revised plan for the garden, I’ve got it right here …”

  An hour later, Curtis stood at the end of the drive and waved as Jason drove off. He’d drawn out their meeting for as long as he could, and finally had to let the young man go. He enjoyed his company a great deal, and his protestations to Sophie aside, he really didn’t have that many people to talk to these days. Oh, he loved having Jesse around, but Jesse was overworked and trying his best to keep his head above water at the office and balance work with his relationship with Brooke and the plans for their upcoming wedding. He did have dinner once or twice each week with Violet, but that still left him with at least five dinners he’d eat alone.

  He walked back to the house and returned to the library, where Jason had stacked more wood before he left. Thoughtful of him, Curtis nodded to himself. But then, Jason was a thoughtful young man. And smart—that was obvious. Good sense of humor. Ambitious. He liked to see a young person with ambition who was willing to work for what he wanted. There was something about him that Curtis just flat-out liked, something about the young man’s company that put him in an easy frame of mind.

  Which was why his ears had perked up when Jason mentioned he’d bought that property out on River Road. That would certainly imply that he was setting down permanent roots in St. Dennis.

  Interesting, Curtis thought. Jason was just the sort of young man that Sophie should be looking for.

  Curtis lowered himself into a wide leather chair near the fire, nursing his beer and thinking. They were going to have to find a way to persuade Sophie into joining her brother at Enright & Enright. She’d be around, and Jason would be around … and who knew where that could lead?

  When the scent of gardenia began to fill the room, he looked up and smiled.

  “Ahhh, Rosie. There you are. We had company today.”

  He rested his head against the back of the chair.

  “Nice boy, that Jason Bowers. You’d like him.” He paused, then nodded. “I think you’ll be very happy with the plans we have for the gardens.” Curtis closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent that surrounded him, taking comfort in it. “I was just thinking that he’s just the type of young man I’d like to see Sophie settled with.

  “Of course, I’m not thinking of playing matchmaker. Have you ever known me to interfere in someone else’s life?

  “Now, you know you’d like to see our girl settled here as much as I would. The firm needs her. And if you know of a finer young man in town for the girl, you just let me know and I’ll be sure to introduce him to her.”

  He closed his eyes, and warmed by the fire and comforted by the love that surrounded him, he drifted off to sleep, thinking how good it would be for Sophie if she were to move to St. Dennis like her brother had. And if she happened to find the right guy and decided to stay, well, what was wrong with that?

  Chapter 9

  Sophie drove her rental car to the St. Dennis Elementary School on Memorial Drive and parked in the almost filled-to-capacity parking lot. Jesse was still at the office with a client, but he’d promised Logan and Brooke that he’d meet them there as soon as he could.

  After having gone through a second batch of résumés yesterday, Sophie had to admit that her brother was not exaggerating when he’d claimed he was swamped with work and that his offer for her to join the firm wasn’t simply an attempt to lure her to St. Dennis under false pretenses. He really did need another attorney, and in all fairness to Violet—who should be permitted to return to her well-deserved retirement—he had to start looking for another office manager as well as a paralegal. Since he hadn’t had time to go over the résumés she’d left on his desk, Sophie had brought them home with her. After reviewing them a second time, she’d written notes on each one and left them on the kitchen counter next to Jesse’s coffeemaker, stacked in order of her ranking of one through eleven, with one being her recommended hire. He’d written a note on the top one, Ask Violet to arrange interview. Sophie had done that herself, scheduling the interview for Friday morning. She had mentioned Nita’s granddaughter to Violet, who’d merely sniffed her disapproval. Sophie wasn’t sure what the problem was but knew better than to ask, lest Violet think that Sophi
e was questioning her judgment.

  She entered the school through the big double doors out front and followed the signs for the science fair, which took her down one short hall and then another. A bulletin board announced upcoming events on a giant calendar that highlighted OUR WINTER HOLIDAYS and showcased students’ artwork depicting such notable dates as Groundhog Day, Valentine’s Day, Presidents’ Day, and St. Patrick’s Day. A corresponding bulletin board heralded the anticipated arrival of spring, with April Fools’ Day apparently the favorite holiday in that month, there being several drawings to illustrate the day.

  “Cookie?” someone asked.

  “What?” She turned, frowning.

  Jason stood behind her, his outstretched hand holding a napkin in which rested several chocolate chip cookies.

  “I thought the punch-and-cookie thing was after the science fair,” she said.

  “It is.”

  “So how’d you rate cookies now?”

  He shrugged. “Came in the back door looking hungry.”

  “Nice of you to share.” She took one and bit into it. “Homemade. Nice. Thanks.”

  “I think it’s a rule at these school things that if you bring cookies, they have to be homemade. At least, that’s been my experience here.”

  “You’ve been before?”

  Jason nodded. “School play, awards ceremony, last day of school, art show, winter band concert.” He rolled his eyes at the last.

  “I think Jesse mentioned that. He said it was pretty rough.”

  “ ‘Rough’ is kind. You haven’t heard ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’ until you’ve heard it played by an elementary school band.

  “You going in?” He gestured in the direction of the auditorium, where the exhibits were set up.

  “I am. Have you seen Logan and Brooke?” she asked.

  He fell in step next to her. “Logan’s already in there with his project. Brooke’s wandering around somewhere, no doubt socializing. She grew up in St. Dennis, so I guess she pretty much knows everyone in town.”