On Lavender Lane

by JoAnn Ross

  She shrugged shoulders bared by a filmy top that reminded him of Monet’s water lilies. Lucas had been surprised when he’d returned home and seen the woman, who’d always worn jeans and T-shirts, dressing softer. Her style, if that’s what you could call it, had always been basic Gap, though she had told him about all those designer suits she’d worn during her engagement to a rich, weaselly lawyer.

  That Chicago Junior League woman was now long gone. And although she still hadn’t embraced her fashionista mother’s style, she looked and dressed in a more feminine way. And seemed happier than he’d ever seen her.

  Which, he had to figure, had a lot to do with the jarhead grilling thick, marbled rib-eye steaks and ears of corn. Not to mention the two former foster children—a little blond girl and freckled-face, red-haired teenage boy—they’d taken in and were planning to adopt. Being a nurturer at heart, Lucas knew she’d made a super mom.

  “Sax is going to be Kara’s husband,” Charity said. “Which means they share stuff. So, is it true?”

  “Yeah. I took another job along with the one Sofia offered.”

  “So Sax said. The cannery sounds ambitious. And it’ll be great for the town. My receptionist’s an artist. I’m sure she’d love another outlet. Sax’s grandmother volunteers teaching some of the women at Haven House to knit. If they could sell some of the things they made, they’d earn much-needed income, as well. Have you come up with a plan for the restaurant yet?”

  “I did some preliminary modeling sketches. But now it seems to have expanded into a cooking school.”

  She laughed. “I learned while remodeling this place into a clinic that construction plans multiply like tribbles.”

  The Victorian in question that served as both a clinic for her veterinary practice and living quarters had begun as a bordello for seamen who’d stopped in port, and later spent several incarnations as a B and B. In fact, Lucas and his father had stayed there for a few weeks while building the cottage.

  “That tends to be true.” He glanced over at the Marine, who’d cut off a couple pieces of one of the steaks and tossed the first one to a little black dog who’d been sitting patiently waiting, and then another to Charity’s huge white Great Pyrenees, who snatched it out of the air and immediately gulped it down. Then one to Scout, who thumped her thick tail with canine happiness. Which wasn’t surprising, since rib eye was a helluva improvement over the MRE leftovers she’d grown used to eating. “I like your Marine.”

  “Thanks.” Her face softened and her eyes warmed. “I like him, too.”

  Which was more than obvious. Given that the two of them were as lovey-dovey as Kara and Sax, Lucas was wondering if the town had put something in the water.

  “Thanks for not inviting the baker.”

  “I still think you would’ve liked her. But Kara tells me that Sax says you have other plans.” Her voice went up a little on the end, turning it into a question.

  “Word gets around fast.”

  “It’s a small town. And your friends care about you.”

  “Well, since you brought it up, he’s right. I do.”

  She eyed him over the salted rim of her margarita glass. “That was certainly quick.”

  “Not so quick at all. I’d say it’s about ten years too late.”

  “He also told me what happened.” She scooped some guacamole onto a chip. “Back then. And why.”

  “Terrific.” He took a long pull on the bottle of beer and thought that a tequila shot might be more appropriate for this conversation. That’s what he got for spilling his guts that day on the mountain. Which was easier to do when you didn’t believe you were going to make it out alive. “Now it’s your turn to tell me I’m an idiot.”

  “Well, that’s your word, but I’m not going to argue it. However, I have to qualify the description to admit that you are a sweet idiot. And well-meaning.”

  “Try telling that to Maddy.”

  “Have you told her yet? Your motive for letting her believe you were unfaithful to her that summer?”

  “Yeah. Today.”

  “And how did that go?”

  He shrugged. Took another drink. “Let’s just say she didn’t give me the humanitarian of the year award.”

  “It’s been a horribly rough week for her. She’s bound to have conflicting emotions.”

  “Yeah. I may be an idiot, but even I could figure that out. Which is why maybe I ought not to have told her I intend to marry her.”

  “What?” The chip, which had been headed toward her mouth, dropped to the patio. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Since it’s obvious to everyone that I screwed up by lying to her back then, I figured I ought to be up front about my intentions this time.”

  “That’s admirable, though perhaps unwise. Didn’t it occur to you that you’re rushing things? Three days ago, she believed she was in a stable marriage.”

  “You might be right about my timing not being the best. But I don’t buy that part about her marriage.” Lucas scooped up another chip and handed it to her to replace the one the little black mutt, proving himself a speedy opportunist, had immediately scarfed up. “If her relationship with the Frenchman wasn’t already on the skids, she wouldn’t have come back here. She’d have stayed in New York and tried to work things out. She’s not someone to cut and run.”

  “Yet, according to Kara, that’s exactly what she did ten years ago.”

  “Only because I didn’t give her any choice. And she didn’t exactly run, but just continue on with the plan she’d already mapped out. I just gave her a push.”

  “Over the edge.”

  That hurt. Unfortunately it was true. “Believe me, she’s not that same girl. She’s an adult. One who knows her own mind.”

  Charity raised a brow as she crunched the chip. “Are you saying she’s already agreed to your master plan?”

  “Well, not yet,” he admitted. “I’m working on it.”

  She considered that for a moment as she took another sip of margarita. “Kara and I were talking about inviting her out to lunch to catch up and hopefully cheer her up.…I suppose, just possibly, if your name happened to come up during the conversation, we could put in a good word for you.”

  “You do that, and you’ll have a slave for life.”

  “Sorry, frog boy,” Gabe, who’d come over to put his arm around Charity, said. “That job’s already taken.”

  As if to prove his point, he tunneled his hand beneath the hair Charity had begun wearing loose, lowered his head, and took her smiling mouth.

  The kiss was short, but from the way her hands tightened on the stem of the margarita glass and the glazed look in her eyes when they came up for air, it had obviously been potent.

  And, although as a SEAL, Lucas had never imagined ever being envious of a jarhead, at this moment, watching the two of them together, he damn well was.

  27

  Frustrated when thoughts and dreams of Lucas had caused another fitful night, Madeline finally gave up on sleep and decided to take a long walk on the beach. This time, however, although Lucas was in Portland, so odds of accidentally running into him again were slim, she chose a beach south of the one his cottage overlooked. Unfortunately, it was also painfully close to the cave that held so many bittersweet memories.

  Still, the walk did clear the cobwebs from her head. Enough that she could begin to view Lucas’ behavior that night in a less harsh light. He’d hurt her. Horribly. But remembering back to how she’d sprung her romantic plan to stay with him, she realized that he must have felt boxed in. Especially when she’d refused to listen to him when he’d tried to convince her that she should go through with her European food tour. That they had the rest of their lives to be together.

  Unfortunately, teenage insecurities had her afraid he’d meet someone else while she was away. A fear he’d obviously not only sensed, but played on when he’d set up that scene that had made him look so guilty.

  Looking back on it now, she rea
lized that she hadn’t been the only one hurting. Because not only had he been her best friend, but she also now realized that he had truly loved her. Which meant that even though he’d gotten the reaction he’d intended, he’d had to suffer his own heartache at the way things ended between them.

  She’d just gotten back to her car when Kara Conway, who’d been Kara Blanchard when they’d all gone to school together, called and invited Madeline to lunch with her and Charity Tiernan.

  She assumed the women intended to lobby on Lucas’ behalf, but since it had been too long since she’d seen her friend or even indulged in any girl talk, she immediately agreed.

  Three hours later, she was on her way to lunch at the Sea Mist, when, as she passed the Dancing Deer Two boutique, a display in the store’s window caught her eye. The spring dresses were bright, flirty, and nothing like she normally wore on her show or in the city.

  “Which is precisely the point.”

  If she was going to move on with her life, she wanted it to be a new life. Wrapped up in a pretty box with a shiny ribbon as a gift to herself.

  Which is how she ended up leaving the store with the suit she’d worn to Omaha (which was what she’d planned to wear to lunch, given that her choices were limited at the moment) in a shopping bag and wearing a sleeveless, full-skirted dress covered with red, purple, and orange roses, a purple cardigan, and a pair of strappy red sandals. She’d also bought underwear and three casual outfits to tide her over until she could retrieve the clothes she’d left back in New York.

  Thanks to the speedy help from the elderly twin sisters who owned the store, she managed to be in and out in under fifteen minutes, making it to lunch with two minutes to spare.

  The Sea Mist restaurant hadn’t changed since the last time Madeline had eaten here. The paneled walls were still stained a light blue-gray designed to appear weathered by decades of wind and coastal storms. A mural of the Shelter Bay lighthouse covered one wall, while old black-and-white photos harking back to the town’s seafaring days had been hung on the others.

  The female figurehead of Rubenesque proportions, salvaged from the prow of some ancient ship and now arching over the doorway, had Madeline feeling downright svelte. Although the patio, right on the water, had always been a favorite of locals and tourists alike, because it had begun to sprinkle and the clouds had caused a drop in temperature, the three women decided to eat inside next to the glass wall that offered a spectacular view of the boats coming into and out of the harbor.

  “This is lovely,” Madeline said. “I’m so glad you invited me.”

  “We’re glad you’re back home,” Kara said. “Although I’m so horribly sorry for the circumstances.”

  “It hasn’t exactly been a stellar week,” she admitted as the waiter deposited a basket of sourdough bread and herbed butter in the center of the wooden table that gleamed with the patina of years of lemon oil.

  “The bastard Frenchman is lucky he lives on the other side of the country,” Kara said. “If he showed up here, I’d have to shoot him.”

  “You’re kidding.” True, it had been years since she’d seen Shelter Bay’s sheriff, but surely Kara hadn’t changed that much?

  “Unfortunately, since I take my serve-and-protect duty seriously, I am.” She sighed. “But the fantasy is definitely appealing.”

  “I’m really good at neutering,” Charity said. “Granted, I’ve only ever done dogs and cats, and turned one calf into a steer during my large-animal course during vet school, but the process shouldn’t be all that different on a human male.”

  They both had Madeline laughing. She’d been afraid the lunch would prove uncomfortable, but she had already begun to relax. She was also remembering how nice it had been to have girlfriends before her career had taken over every moment of her life.

  “I considered that,” she admitted. “After all, I do have a cleaver. And know how to use it.”

  “Oh, I would so love to witness that,” Kara said as she tore off a piece of the fragrant bread. “The rat doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Thanks. On that I can agree. Although it’s embarrassing as hell.”

  “I don’t know why,” Kara said. “He’s the one with his tattooed, bare butt all over YouTube.”

  Madeline wasn’t surprised her former classmate had seen it. Truth be told, she’d have looked, too.

  “That’s pretty much what Lucas said.”

  “He’s right. You’re the injured party. And the way you’ve been handling it, not taking the two of them on in the tabloids, is really classy.”

  “It helps that the tabloids haven’t found me yet.” Though, since even Birdy had known she grew up in a small town on the Oregon coast, it wouldn’t take long for the vultures to locate her.

  “I realized this morning that not only do Maxime and his beer baroness deserve each other, but I have only one regret about walking out.”

  “What’s that?” Charity tore off her own piece of bread and slathered it with butter.

  Since Charity Tiernan’s mother had divorced Lucas Chaffee’s father before Madeline had come to live in Shelter Bay, they’d never met.

  But although Madeline had been worried that the veterinarian might feel protective of her stepbrother, Charity proved warm and open, and she didn’t pry for information about his and Madeline’s relationship.

  Which had Madeline liking her right away, although it was a little odd thinking that if Lucas hadn’t pulled that stupid trick to get her to leave town and they’d eventually gotten married, there was a possibility that she and Charity could be somehow related. Was there even such a thing as a stepsister-in-law?

  “When I was walking out of our apartment, he offered me money for my own restaurant,” she said.

  “Which, of course, you took,” both women said.

  “Actually, I turned it down. I know,” she said, holding up her hands. “I was all caught up in pride and, as Gram would say, I cut off my nose to spite my face.”

  “I can understand pride,” Charity said, “having caused a huge scandal by running away from my wedding ten minutes before I was supposed to walk down the aisle.”

  “You didn’t!” Madeline was pleased to have the conversation turn to someone else’s personal scandal.

  “I did. Which shocked everyone who’d shown up to attend what was being billed as Chicago’s wedding of the year. But if I hadn’t dared to do that, I never would have ended up back here and fallen in love with Gabe.” She bit into the bread. “God, this butter is good.”

  “The chives give a nice bite to the flat-leaf parsley, thyme, and basil,” Madeline agreed. “But it’s the virgin olive oil that makes it so creamy and brings it to the next level.” She also decided to drop in sometime during a lull in service and meet the chef who’d obviously had serious training, along with having an excellent palate.

  “That’s so cool you know that,” Kara said. “I know what tastes good, but I have no idea why. Sax does most of the cooking for us.”

  “Remembering some of the meals at Bon Temps growing up, I suspect that isn’t exactly a hardship,” Madeline said.

  “Not at all. There’s something so sexy about a man in the kitchen.” Kara sighed happily, reminding Madeline what Lucas had said about she and Sax being so crazy about each other. Then, realizing what she’d said, she winced and said, “Oops.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know exactly what you mean. And you’re right. I remember my mother saying much the same thing. Which is one of the reasons, I think, I allowed myself to believe I was in love with Maxime. Because I believed we had the love of food in common.”

  “And you didn’t?” Charity asked.

  “No. He loved fame. The cooking, I realized, was always secondary.”

  “Which for you is the other way around,” Kara guessed. “I remember loving slumber parties at the farm because you always had us making our own pizzas. Which were so much better than takeout.”

  “They always are. And any fame, such as it
is, I’ve managed to achieve was merely a way of funding my husband’s restaurant empire. I could walk away tomorrow, if it weren’t for Gram’s idea of opening a restaurant and cooking school.”

  “I was there when she brought up the restaurant idea to Lucas,” Charity said. “Then he told me last night about the idea of expanding to a school.”

  “I’d sign up for a class,” Kara said.

  “So would I,” Charity agreed. “But getting it off the ground is bound to be pricey.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. All the more reason I wish I’d taken the money.” She shared her idea of the reality show, which both women thought would be fun to watch.

  But Kara was more cautious. “Yet there you’d be again,” she pointed out, “putting aside your own dream of a restaurant for someone else.”

  “I owe Gram.”

  “She’s family. And you know she’d hate for you to think of it as an obligation.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to help her out.”

  “You always talked about opening your own restaurant,” Kara remembered. “Especially after visiting that place in California.”

  “Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse. She pioneered the philosophy of cooking with the freshest seasonal ingredients that are produced sustainably and locally, and a food economy that’s good, clean, and fair. I also visited Darina Allen of the Ballymaloe Cookery School in Ireland for one of my programs. She’s doing much the same thing.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve got all the ingredients for that right here,” Charity said. “I’ve heard Lavender Hill Farm is world famous for its variety of herbs.”

  “Gram was invited to the White House for the launch of the vegetable garden,” Madeline said. “The arugula and celery they grow there are from her seeds. Which continue to be harvested year after year.”

  “So, you have the veggies and herbs. And Ethan Concannon’s grass-fed beef is not to be believed. We grilled steaks last night, and not only do they have fewer calories, but they tasted so much richer and, well…”

  “Fuller,” Madeline supplied. “More what beef should taste like.”