by Irene Hannon
“Okay, you win. Something pretty dramatic did happen today.”
He tilted his head as her regarded her. “I can’t say you look unhappy exactly. It must not be anything too terrible.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She stirred her iced tea and took a deep breath. “You remember I mentioned once that years ago I was engaged?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Well…Jake—that was his name—he…he stayed at the inn last night.”
Philip frowned. “You mean he came to see you?”
“No, nothing like that. He got caught in the fog and just happened to stop at our place. Allison checked him in. I didn’t even know he was there until this morning at breakfast, when the girls kept talking about this…this nice-looking man who’d checked in. It turned out to be Jake.”
Philip stared at her. “That must have been a terrible shock.”
Maggie gave a short, mirthless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. I’ve been off balance ever since it happened. Which is odd, since my relationship with him was over long ago. I can’t figure out why his reappearance has disturbed me so much.”
Philip studied her for a moment. “It does seem strange. After all, whatever you two shared is history, right?”
“Right.”
“And it isn’t as if he even means anything to you anymore, right?”
“Right.” A hint of uncertainty crept into her voice.
“What was he doing here, anyway?”
“He’s interviewing for a job at the Maritime Academy.”
“You mean he might move up here?”
“Yes. And that makes me even more nervous. Which is ridiculous, because we’re no more than strangers to each other now.”
“It’s probably just the shock of seeing him.” Philip took a sip of his iced tea. “Where has he lived all these years?”
“All over, I guess. He’s been in the navy. I think he still would be if it wasn’t for his father.” Maggie gave him a short version of the story.
“Hmm.” That was his only comment when she finished.
Maggie sent him a quizzical look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I guess I’m a little surprised. And impressed. Not many people would give up their career, start over, change their whole life to keep a promise made under duress. He sounds like an honorable man.”
Maggie frowned. “Yes, he does. And it’s so at odds with the image I’ve had of him all these years.”
“People do change.”
“I suppose so. I just wish I didn’t feel so off balance.”
“Things will work out. They always do. You’ve successfully weathered a lot of storms through the years, and you’ll ride this one out, too. I know. And I’m always here if you need a sympathetic ear. Don’t forget that.” He touched her hand lightly and smiled, then switched gears. “In the meantime…when do I get a preview of the new painting?”
“Will next week be okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll reserve a spot right near the front for it. You know, you have a large enough body of work now to consider your own show.”
Maggie grimaced. “I just don’t feel…well…good enough…to have an official show.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Besides, you’ll never know till you try. It’s not like you to back off from a challenge.”
“I know. But my painting is so…personal. If I got bad reviews it would be devastating. I’m not sure I’m ready to face that.”
“First of all, they wouldn’t be bad. And second of all, you can face anything, Maggie Fitzgerald. Because you are one of the strongest women I know.”
Maggie wanted to believe him. As recently as yesterday she might have. But a lot had happened since then. And at this particular moment, she didn’t feel very strong at all—thanks to one very unforgettable man named Jake West.
“Jake called twice. Will call again tomorrow.”
Maggie’s heart leapt to her throat as she read the note on the kitchen counter. She should have figured he’d call while she was out. She hoped the girls had explained where she was. She didn’t want him to think she was trying to avoid him. It was just that she led a very busy life. Her days—and evenings—were filled. Like tonight. The zoning board meeting had run far later than she expected because of some heated discussion. And she still had a few breakfast preparations to make, even if it was—she glanced at her watch and groaned—ten-thirty. There always seemed to be too much to do and not enough time.
As Maggie set about assembling the egg and cheese casseroles that were tomorrow’s breakfast entrée, she reflected on the hectic pace of her life. For most people, simply running an inn and raising twins would be a full-time job. But she had made other commitments, as well. Like serving on the church council. And on the zoning board. Not to mention the watercolors she did for the greeting card company and, in recent years, pursuit of more serious art in her limited “spare” time. Why did she take so much on? Could it be that she wanted to keep herself too busy to dwell on the one thing that was lacking in her life?
With an impatient shake of her head, Maggie beat the eggs even harder. She didn’t usually waste time trying to analyze her life choices. If some of them were coping mechanisms, so be it. They worked, and that was all that mattered. Or they’d worked up until today, she amended. Jake’s reappearance had changed everything and, much to her surprise, rattled her big time.
But what surprised her even more was the fact that when she looked at him, it wasn’t the hurt she remembered, but the intense, heady joy of being in love. In some ways, it would almost be easier to remember the pain. Because that had no appeal. Love, however, was a different story. That had a whole lot of appeal. It was just that the opportunity had never come along again. And it wasn’t here now, she reminded herself as she slid the casseroles into the refrigerator. Jake had had his chance. She wasn’t about to give him another.
Abby looked up from her seat in a wicker chair on the porch and grinned as she saw Jake stride up the path.
“Did you come to see Aunt Maggie?” She laid her book aside.
“Please don’t tell me I missed her again?” He’d been trying for the past two days to reach her, and the frustration was evident in his voice. If every minute of his stay in Castine hadn’t been packed, he would have simply driven over and planted himself in her drawing room until she had time to talk to him. But he knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t leaving Blue Hill until he saw her again, even if that meant tracking her down wherever she might be now.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t. She’s in the studio.”
The tension in his shoulders eased, and he smiled. “Where’s the studio?”
“It’s the little room off the kitchen.”
“Would it be all right if I go back?”
“Sure. Aunt Maggie won’t mind.” Abby ignored the worried look Allison sent her way as her sister stepped outside. “It’s just down the hall and through the door at the end.”
“Thanks.” Jake turned to find Allison in the doorway.
“Hello, Mr. West,” Allison greeted him.
Jake grinned at her. “No one’s called me ‘Mr.’ in years. Just Lieutenant. And both of those sound too formal now. So how about we just make it Jake?”
Allison smiled. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you ladies later.”
Allison watched him disappear, then turned to her sister with a worried frown. “Why did you send him back there? You know Aunt Maggie said never interrupt her when she’s painting, unless it’s an emergency.”
Abby gave her sister a condescending look. “Allison, Aunt Maggie’s love life is an emergency.”
Allison clamped her lips shut. How could she argue with Abby—especially when her sister was right?
Maggie tilted her head and frowned. She wanted the seascape to convey restlessness, inner turbulence, the sense of impending fury. But she wasn’t quite there yet. Considering her firsthand k
nowledge of the ocean, and given that her own emotional state paralleled the scene she was trying to paint today, it ought to be easy to transfer those feelings to canvas. But the mood was eluding her, and that was frustrating.
A firm tap sounded on the door, and Maggie glanced toward it in annoyance. Why were the twins bothering her? They were old enough now to handle most of the so-called crises that occurred at the inn. Unless there truly was an emergency of some kind. A tingle of alarm raced up her spine, and she reached for a rag to wipe her brush, psyching herself up to deal with a crisis. “Come in.”
The “crisis” that appeared when the door swung open was not one she was prepared for, however. What on earth was Jake doing here, in her private retreat? She stared at him in surprise as her heart kicked into double time. Try as she might, she couldn’t control the faint flush that crept onto her cheeks, or stop the sudden tremble that rippled over her hands.
Jake smiled. “Abby said I could come back. I hope you don’t mind. But I’m on my way back to Boston, and this was my last chance to see you before I left. We didn’t seem to have much success connecting by phone.”
“Y-yes, I know.” Why did her voice sound so shaky? “Sorry about that. I was at a zoning board meeting the first night you called, and running errands the other times.” That was better. Steadier and more in control.
“So the girls told me.” He propped one shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. “You continue to amaze me, Maggie. I don’t remember that you ever had any interest in politics or government, local or otherwise, and now you’re on the zoning board?”
She set the brush down and reached for a different rag to wipe her hands on, using that as an excuse to escape his warm, disquieting gaze. “Well, I’m part of the business community of this town. It’s my home. I feel a certain sense of responsibility to do my part to make sure Blue Hill retains the qualities that attracted me in the first place.”
“Once again, I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. A lot of people do a whole lot more than me.”
He didn’t agree, but rather than debate the point, he strolled into the studio, his gaze assessing. It was a small room, illuminated by the light from a large picture window on one side. Unlike his image of the stereotypical messy artist’s studio, however, this one was neat and orderly. A couple of canvases in various stages of completion stood on easels, and several other finished works were stacked against one wall.
But what captured his attention most were the posters. Vienna. Florence. Rome. Paris. London. Athens. As his gaze moved from one to another, he realized that these were the places he and Maggie had planned to visit together. And he realized something else, as well. He’d seen most of them, while Maggie had been confined to rural Maine, coping with responsibilities that, even now, her slender shoulders seemed too fragile to bear. His dream of travel had become reality; hers had remained a dream.
He looked down at her slim form silhouetted against the window, the sun forming a halo around her hair, and his throat tightened. He wished with all his heart that he could take her to all the exotic places pictured on her walls. She would love them, would be as awed as he had been on his first visit. But maybe she’d managed to see one or two. He hoped.
He nodded toward the walls. “Nice posters. Are any of them souvenirs?”
She gave him a wry smile and shook her head, dashing his hopes. “Hardly. B&B owners may cater to travelers, but they do very little traveling themselves. Especially with two girls to raise. I’ve stayed pretty close to home all these years. I expect you’ve made it to some, or all, of these spots, though.”
He nodded, trying to stem the surge of guilt that swept over him. “Yes.”
“Are they as wonderful as we…as people say?” The slight wistful note in her voice produced an almost physical ache in his heart.
“Mmm-hmm.” He cleared his throat, but still the huskiness in his voice remained. “I’m sorry you never got to see them, Maggie.”
“Oh, but I will.” The smile she gave him was luminous. “I’m going to Europe right after Christmas. I decided what with the twins going away to college this fall on scholarships, it was time I started a new phase of my life, as well. I’m going to close the B&B for four months and visit all the museums and take some art classes and just soak up the ambiance. It should be wonderful!”
The sudden spark of enthusiasm in her eyes lit up her face, giving it a glow that warmed his heart. “That sounds great. I know you’ll enjoy it, especially with your art background.” He nodded toward the canvases stacked around the room. “I guess I never realized just how talented you are. I remember you sketching, but not painting. I don’t know that much about art, but these look very impressive to me.”
“Thanks. I’m not that good, though. I really don’t have any formal training. But Philip—he owns a local gallery—has encouraged me. He even displays some of my work. And he’s been trying for the past year to convince me to have a show at a gallery in Bangor that’s owned by a friend of his. I’m just not sure I’m ready for that, though.”
“You look ready to me.” Jake meant every word. There was a quality to her work, an emotion, a compelling power that radiated from the canvases. Even with his untrained eye he could sense it.
“Philip says so, too. But I haven’t committed to it yet.”
“Is this Philip someone whose judgment you trust?”
“Absolutely. About everything except my painting, that is. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’m afraid he may not be as impartial as he should be.”
An alarm bell rang in Jake’s mind. Maggie had used the term friend, but when she spoke of this Philip, the warmth and familiarity in her voice implied something more. And that possibility disturbed him. Which was wrong. He had no claim on her heart. He should be glad that she’d found a male companion. Considering all the love she had to offer, Maggie wasn’t the kind of woman who should spend her life alone. But even as he acknowledged that his reaction was selfish and wrong, he couldn’t change the way he felt. The thought of Maggie in love with another man bothered him. It always had.
“Well, I think he’s right.” Jake bit back the question that he longed to ask her about Philip.
“We’ll see.” Maggie left it at that and changed the subject. “So…you’re heading back to Boston. How did the interview go?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in exchange for a cup of coffee.” He smiled and winked.
She blinked, as if taken aback, then stood. “Sure. I thought maybe you only had a few minutes.”
“I’ve got an early flight out of Boston tomorrow morning, so I’d like to get back at a reasonable hour. But I can stay for a little while.” He followed her into the large, airy kitchen.
“Flight?” She tossed the question over her shoulder as she filled two cups.
“Rob and I are meeting at the old house. Before we put it on the market we have to sort through everything and decide what we want to keep. The rest will be sold at an estate sale.”
Maggie turned to him with a troubled frown. “This must be hard on your dad.”
“It is. But he’s accepted the necessity of it and other than a few specific items he’s asked us to save, he’s left the disposition of everything in Rob’s and my hands.”
“That won’t be an easy job.”
Jake hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But he’d been gone from his childhood home for a long time. The emotional ties had loosened long ago. He expected he’d cope just fine. He couldn’t say that, though. It would sound too coldhearted somehow.
“Rob and I will be doing it together. That should help.”
She placed his coffee on the table and sat down, motioning for him to join her. “So how did the interview go?”
“It must have gone well. They offered me the job.”
Her heart stumbled, then lurched on. “So you’ll be moving to Castine?”
“Yes, in about three weeks.”
&
nbsp; Three weeks! That hardly even gave her time to adjust to the idea! “That fast?”
“Well, Rob’s in a bind. The sooner I take Dad off his hands, the better. And I think I’ll like the job a lot. I’ve been an instructor for a few classes in the navy, and I enjoy teaching. And this job will let me stay close to the sea, which is a real plus.”
His voice had grown pensive, and Maggie looked at him while he took a sip of coffee, again struck by the sense of maturity and quiet confidence that he radiated. The high energy she remembered—exhilarating but sometimes undirected—seemed to have been tamed and channeled toward specific goals.
“So, since I had a lot of leave accumulated, I’m taking a month off while they process my discharge—to get things squared away for my new life. I found a nice two-bedroom cottage that’s available right now and signed the papers yesterday.”
“It seems like you have everything under control.”
“Logistically, yes. Dealing with my father…that’s another story.”
“He’s had an awful lot to adjust to. Maybe he just needs some time.”
“Time I can give him. I’m just not sure that’s all it will take.” He glanced at his watch and drained his cup. “I’ve got to go. It’s a long drive back to Boston. But I’ll be back, Maggie. And I was hoping…well, I thought maybe we could have dinner then to finish catching up and celebrate my new job.”
She looked into warm brown eyes that, with a single glance, had once been able to fill her heart with light and hope and promise. But that was then. This was now. And she wasn’t the starry-eyed bride-to-be she’d been twelve years ago.
Yet…sitting here with him now, she felt a lot like the young girl she used to be. Which was not a good sign at all. Her best plan would be to avoid him until she straightened out the emotional tangle she’d been in since his reappearance.
“So what about it, Maggie? How does a dinner celebration sound?”
She looked down and ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”