A Time to Forgive and Promise Forever

by Marta Perry

  After baring his soul to her at the cottage on Saturday, all he’d wanted to do was withdraw. He couldn’t stand seeing the pity in her eyes. He’d managed to avoid being alone with her. By Monday night, ashamed of his behavior, he’d looked for her, hoping to get things back to normal between them.

  But Tory had closeted herself in the workroom immediately after dinner, making it clear she didn’t want to be disturbed. Because she had work to do or because she just plain didn’t want to see him? He didn’t know the answer to that.

  He tossed his pen onto the blotter and swiveled his chair, looking out the window at the boatyard, busy with new orders now that the summer rush of repairs had passed. Beyond the yard, October sunlight sparkled on the water. The sight reminded him that he was lucky to be doing work he loved in the place where he belonged. Today it seemed to have lost its power to soothe him.

  What was he going to do about Tory?

  One thing he wouldn’t do was kiss her again, no matter how much he wanted to see the loneliness disappear from her eyes. No matter how much he wanted the comfort of holding her in his arms.

  He wouldn’t go down that road again. He’d have to handle doing without a relationship with her.

  If Tory pursued the memorial window, he’d have to handle that, too. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to erase the tension that sat there.

  Maybe he’d known all along he didn’t stand a chance of stopping this memorial without creating still more questions about Lila. The best he could hope for was that Tory would create some standard biblical portrayal. He could try to look at that on its own merits without thinking of Lila at all.

  Yeah, right.

  The door opened behind him, and he spoke without turning around. “Tina, whatever it is, can it wait?”

  “It’s not your secretary.” The door closed. “It’s me.”

  He spun the chair around, trying to beat down the wave of pleasure he felt every time he looked at Tory.

  “Hey. What brings you here?” And how could he gracefully tell her that maybe they shouldn’t be alone together?

  “I need to talk with you.” She slipped the strap of her leather portfolio from her shoulder. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  He made a point of glancing at his watch. “Actually, not many. Jenny’s being dropped off here after school. I promised she could go out on the trial run of a new boat.”

  “This won’t take long.” Tory seemed immune to his hint. She was dressed a little more formally than usual, wearing pressed khakis instead of jeans and a scarlet sweater that made her hair look darker in contrast. He couldn’t deny that he liked having her in his office even if it was a bad idea.

  She propped the portfolio on the visitor’s chair opposite his desk and fumbled with the catch. “I have something to show you.”

  Her tension leaped the few feet between them to needle him, and he guessed why she was there before she could speak. The design for the memorial window, it had to be that. His fists clenched in spite of his effort to stay detached.

  Tory pulled out a large pad. “I’ve come up with a design.”

  He took a breath. Okay, he had to do this. He held out his hand. “Let me see.”

  She gave him the pad, then clasped both hands in front of her like a child waiting for approval. He’d just—

  Tory’s design swam in front of his eyes. There was the border of beach morning glories, the space at the bottom for the inevitable inscription.

  But Tory hadn’t put a scriptural scene in the center. Instead, a silver dolphin leaped from a glass sea.

  A vise clamped his throat, shutting off speech. The drawing was beautiful—a perfect depiction of the Caldwell dolphin. And Tory proposed putting that in a window dedicated to the woman who’d betrayed him.

  He dropped the drawing as if it burned his fingers. “No.” He glared at her. “No.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed, but her gaze didn’t falter. “I know what you’re thinking. But hear me out first.”

  “Tory—” He shot to his feet, unable to sit still any longer. “What are you thinking? After what I told you, you ought to know I can’t live with this.”

  “It’s because of what you told me.” She fired the words at him, leaning forward, her face intent and passionate. “Don’t you understand? Any design I came up with would hurt you, I knew that. But if there’s going to be a window, isn’t it better to make it something that honors your family?”

  He planted both fists on the desk. “Is this about my family or yours?”

  Tory flushed as if he’d scored against her, but she stood her ground. “It’s both. You told me all along we wouldn’t find the dolphin. I guess you were right. There’s no place left to look.” She spread her hands, palms out, empty. “But this is something I can do to make up for whatever part my mother played in its loss. I thought it might make your family happy. Wouldn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Gran would be pleased, certainly. She’d have something to point to as a symbol of the Caldwell heritage. “But I’d still have to look at that inscription.” His jaw was so tight it felt ready to shatter. “I’d still have to think about how Lila betrayed everything that heritage stands for.”

  She took a step forward so only the width of the desk separated them. Her hands went out pleadingly. “Adam, think about this instead. Lila gave you Jenny. Whatever wrong she did in the end, she gave you that beautiful, perfect child to carry on your name. Doesn’t that make her part of the Caldwell heritage, too?”

  He wanted to say no. He wanted to forget this whole thing and return to the days before he met Tory, back to keeping his secret and carrying his burden. It had been painful, but easier.

  He turned away from the drawing, rubbing his neck again. The tension had taken up permanent residence.

  “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just don’t know.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “Can I think about this?”

  “Of course.”

  Running feet sounded in the outer office. “That’ll be Jenny.” He reached for the drawing, but Tory beat him to it, slipping it into the portfolio.

  “It’s all right.” She gave him that rare, brilliant smile. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Thank you.” His voice roughened on the words, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. No emotional involvement, remember? Unfortunately strong feelings, whether they were negative or positive, seemed built into every encounter he had with Tory.

  A wave of relief swept over Tory. Adam hadn’t rejected her idea out of hand. He’d listened to her arguments in favor of the memorial.

  If only he could accept it. The idea had felt so right when she’d sat in the quiet sanctuary with his grandmother’s words ringing in her ears.

  Please. That would be a step toward healing for him, wouldn’t it? I know creating this window would help to heal me, too.

  The door burst open, and Jenny danced through, clearly excited. She saw Tory, and Tory braced herself for a repeat of the scene on the dock.

  But the little girl’s smile didn’t falter. “Hey, Miz Tory. We’re going out in the new boat my daddy made. Did you know that?”

  “I heard something about it.” Obviously, Adam’s talk with his little daughter had borne fruit. She’d better not push her luck, though. She picked up the portfolio. “I should be getting back to work.”

  A look flashed between Jenny and Adam, a look of understanding without the need for words between father and daughter.

  “You don’t have to go yet, do you, Miz Tory? Can’t you come out on the boat with us?”

  The longing to do just that startled Tory with its strength. Frightened her, too, just a little. She had no future with these people, and she shouldn’t create bonds that were bound to break.

  “Please,” Jenny wheedled. “I want you to come, honest.”

  “We both do.” Adam’s smile dissipated the lines of strain around his eyes. It went right to her heart and lodged there. �
�Please.”

  She shouldn’t, should she? But Adam’s asking seemed a peace offering. Besides, she wanted to.

  “If you’re sure I won’t be in the way.”

  “Not at all.” Adam ruffled his daughter’s light brown curls. “Let’s go, ladies. The Terrapin is ready for her maiden voyage.”

  “Yes!” Jenny clapped once, then raced ahead of them. They were going for a boat ride.

  Walking beside Adam as they left the office, Tory tried to find some nice, neutral topic of conversation that would steer clear of anything painful.

  “Jenny seems to know her way around.”

  He pulled the door shut behind them. “She’s had the run of the boatyard since she was four. After Lila died, I wanted her with me as much as possible, so I brought her down often.”

  She’d managed to stumble into the wrong subject again. Still, Adam had said Lila’s name with an ease she hadn’t heard from him before. She’d like to interpret that as a good sign.

  “So you’re training the next generation to take over the family business.” She fell into step with him as they went down the passageway to the docks.

  He looked startled at that. “I never thought of it that way. Whatever Jenny wants to do is fine with me. I don’t believe in putting pressure on kids to be what parents want.”

  That struck her in the heart. “More parents should feel that way.”

  Adam took her arm as they walked through a tangle of tools and cables. “I feel like I’m playing it by ear most of the time.”

  “Then you must have perfect pitch. Jenny’s a delightful child.”

  His eyes crinkled. “You can’t say anything a father wants to hear more.”

  They stepped into the sunlight, and he gestured to the docks ahead of them, lining the wharf in front of a cavernous building. “We do a lot of storage and repair work here. But creating a boat from design to launch—that’s the best part.”

  Jenny had stopped on one of the docks, chattering excitedly to an elderly man who leaned on the rail of what appeared to be— Tory blinked.

  “Is that a pirate ship?”

  Jenny heard the question and swung toward her, face animated. “It’s our very own pirate ship, the Jolly Roger. This is Thomas.” She gestured to the man on the deck. “He’s helping us get it ready for Pirate Days. I’m going to wear a patch over my eye and sail it all the way around the island.”

  “The pirate ship, not the patch,” Adam clarified, a note of laughter in his voice. “And I think she might have a little help with the sailing part.”

  Tory looked at the masts towering above them. “I’d hope so. You’re really going to sail this?”

  Adam grinned. “Sounds a little silly, I guess.”

  The gray-haired workman shook his head. “Nothin’ silly about remembering.” He grinned widely. “Or havin’ a good excuse for a shindig after all the summer folk are gone.”

  “You need any help getting her ready?” Adam rested a hand on the black wooden hull. “I could spare a few hours this week.”

  “That’d be a help.” Thomas nodded toward Tory. “We surely do want everything up to snuff if we have a guest on board.”

  “I’m not…”

  “But Miz Tory, you have to come.” Jenny grabbed her hand, jumping excitedly on one foot. “It’s so much fun to play pirates.”

  “Give Miz Tory time to think about it,” Adam said, detaching her. “Right now we’ve got a boat to launch, remember?”

  “The Terrapin!” Jenny shouted, and raced down the dock.

  Adam lifted a hand to Thomas as they followed. “Enthusiastic little thing, isn’t she? Still, I’m pretty proud of it myself.”

  They passed the bulk of the pirate ship and caught up with Jenny, teetering on the edge of the dock next to a gleaming white boat. Black trim and shiny fittings completed the image of a craft fresh from the builder’s hands.

  Tory stopped, admiring the sleek lines. “It’s beautiful. You actually built it?”

  Adam climbed aboard, swung Jenny onto the deck and held out his hand to Tory. “Planed every board. Nothing mass-produced comes out of the Caldwell Boatyard. You want a custom-designed boat, that’s what you get.”

  She took his hand, preparing to step on board, but he caught her by the waist and swung her on as he had Jenny. She stumbled, catching her breath and trying to stop the racing of her heart.

  “You must be very proud of it.” She hoped her voice sounded normal.

  “We all are.”

  He nodded to the men who gathered on the dock. Two of them unfastened the lines, tossing them on board, and Jenny raced to coil them as if she’d been doing it all her life.

  “Start her up, captain.” Thomas grinned, and Tory couldn’t mistake the look of pride and respect on his face—in fact, on all their faces.

  Adam started the motor, and the Terrapin edged away from the dock. The men clapped, grinning. An odd shiver went down Tory’s spine. Adam must feel the way she did when she’d completed a window. But he had people cheering for him, sharing his satisfaction.

  She settled onto the seat behind him as he turned the new boat into the channel. “You’re really an artisan, aren’t you?”

  Jenny wiggled onto the seat next to her. “What’s an artisan?”

  “Someone like me, who makes things with their hands. I make windows, and your daddy makes boats.”

  Jenny tipped her head to one side, considering. “I think I’d like to be an artisan, too. But I don’t know what I want to make.”

  Adam flashed Tory an amused glance. “You have plenty of time to decide that, sugar.”

  They moved into the waterway, the boatyard and its buildings growing smaller behind them. Sunlight glittered on the water and turned the marshes to gold. The breeze lifted Tory’s hair, the sun warmed her skin, and Jenny pressed against her arm in unconscious acceptance. The tension she’d felt since she’d walked into Adam’s office slid away, like the boat slipping its moorings.

  Adam glanced at her as if measuring her satisfaction. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “I can understand why you’d never want to live anywhere else.” She tipped her head back, enjoying the sunlight on her face. “It’s perfect.”

  “Look, Miz Tory.” Jenny leaned across her, pointing to a buoy in the channel. “That’s an osprey’s nest.”

  “You’re quite the naturalist, aren’t you?” Jenny really was an islander born and bred.

  “And a sailor.” Adam leaned back and reached out a long arm for his daughter. “Come on up here and help me steer her, sugar.”

  “Can I, Daddy?” Jenny scampered to him, and he wedged her onto the seat next to him.

  “Sure you can. You’re my first mate.” His large hands covered his daughter’s small ones on the wheel. “Keep her between the channel markers.”

  There was a lump in Tory’s throat the size of a baseball. The relationship between Jenny and her father was a beautiful thing to see. Adam might not realize it, but if Jenny ever did find out the truth about her mother, he’d already given her enough love and acceptance to deal with it. Jenny would never doubt that she was loved unconditionally, no strings attached.

  They rounded the end of the island and made the turn into the sound. Jenny wiggled around to look in her father’s face.

  “We should let Miz Tory have a turn. She didn’t get to steer yet.”

  Adam dropped a kiss on her curls. “That’s a nice idea, sugar.”

  “I can’t,” Tory said hurriedly, sure she didn’t want the fate of what had to be an expensive boat in her hands. “I don’t know how, and there’s not room for both of us on that seat.”

  But Jenny had already slid out, and Adam stood, hand still on the wheel, freeing the seat.

  “You just slip in here,” he said. He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay right behind you.”

  “Promise you won’t let go of the wheel,” she bargained, sliding reluctantly into the seat and tilting her
head to see his face.

  “I promise.” He smiled, so close it took her breath away.

  “I…I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Probably because she couldn’t think straight with him so near.

  “Sure it is.” He bent down so his face was next to hers, barely an inch away. His arms brushed against hers as he held the wheel. “Look right through the windscreen as you steer. It’s like driving a car.”

  “I don’t risk beaching a car.”

  He tapped a gauge on the dash. “That shows you the bottom depth. As long as you keep her between the buoys, we’re safe.”

  “And if I don’t?” His nearness was doing odd things to her heart, and it took an effort to sound natural.

  Adam turned to look at her, and she felt his breath warm against her cheek. “If you beach her, we’ll wait for the tide to come in and float us off.” His voice grew husky, as if he thought about being stranded. Together.

  Her heart was beating so loudly the noise drowned everything else out. If only… The longing in her heart took form. If only she really could belong here. With him.

  “I love being on the boat, don’t you, Miz Tory?” Jenny sounded as if she thought she’d been out of the conversation long enough. “Isn’t it just the best thing?”

  “Yes.” Tory’s gaze tangled with Adam’s, and she couldn’t see anything beyond the emotion in his eyes. “It’s the best thing.”

  “My mommy never liked it,” Jenny went on. “That’s funny, isn’t it?”

  Adam stiffened, his hand tightening over hers so hard it hurt. But it didn’t hurt as much as seeing the pleasure fade from his eyes or recognizing the truth in her heart.

  Adam was still all knotted up inside over his wife’s betrayal. And as long as he was, he remained tied to Lila just as surely as if she were still alive and here next to them.

  Until Adam found a way to forgive the past, he’d never be free to give his heart to anyone else.

  Chapter Eleven

  She’d been waiting since the day before for Adam to give her his answer. She was still waiting.