Puffy clouds doted the expansive blue sky as she walked the few blocks to the church. Parking was never a problem in the church lot, but whenever the weather was nice, she preferred to walk. The breeze from the sea held the tang of salt she loved. Today felt fresh and clean. “Today is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it,” she recited as she approached the white clapboard church with its traditional steeple. She recognized everyone she saw, greeting those close enough.
Her father stood near the double doors, watching for her. He smiled when he saw her. He did look older. And thinner. Was there something wrong, or was it a reality check? He was no longer a young man.
“Good morning, cupcake. You look fresh and happy.”
“It’s a beautiful day. Not fishing today?”
He shook his head. “Want to take my best girl out for lunch.”
“We could drive down to Kennebecport,” she suggested.
“Sounds good. See you after Bible study.”
Marcie almost held her breath when she entered the church sanctuary later. She had not seen a sign of Zack or Jenny. Maybe he had not brought the little girl after all, though Jenny loved Sunday school. If Zack didn’t bring her, maybe Marcie could offer for next week. No, Joe and Gillian would be back by then. They never missed.
But Zack often had. Maybe he was the same Zack Kincaid, after all, she thought with a sigh of relief, tinged with disappointment.
Zack and Jenny entered the back of the sanctuary. The place was almost full. Thankfully, he found an empty spot in the next to the last row and ushered Jenny in. He had only wanted to drop her off at church with a promise to pick her up afterward. But she’d insisted they attend together.
“We always sit up front with Aunt Marcie,” she said, scooting in and looking around.
“This is fine,” he said, sitting on the wooden pew. Glancing around, he noticed several people looking at him. He nodded and looked forward.
The man next to Jenny offered a hand to Zack. “Welcome to Trinity Church. We’re glad you could join us. I’m Samuel Bowmont.”
“Zack Kincaid.” He shook hands, and then nodded to the man’s wife when she was introduced. At least these people didn’t seem to know him or the episode that might have played out in this church.
The organist began and the chatter quieted. Zack stared straight ahead. If he didn’t make eye contact with anyone, no one would speak to him. He was uncomfortable surrounded by so many people he’d known most of his life, but on whom he’d turned his back for so long. Jenny reached for a hymnal and began turning the pages. He remembered days gone by when his parents had brought Joe and him to church. And later, when he and Marcie were dating in high school, they’d sat together. He’d loved singing the different hymns. Singing had been the best part of the service when he’d been younger.
His gaze found Marcie. She was sitting next to her dad near the front. His throat tightened as he gazed at the back of her head. So many memories and regrets.
The music changed slightly and people rose to their feet. He stood and stared at the hymnal Jenny shared with him. She already had the correct page number.
Feeling awkward after having shunned church for so many years, nevertheless he began singing the familiar hymn. The words remembered, the melody returned.
It felt odd to be in the church he’d grown up in. He couldn’t help thinking about the day he was supposed to marry Marcie. The church had been decorated with flowers, white roses and some small white flower and lots of green. They’d had the rehearsal, Zack’s fear building. Then the fateful call had come earlier that week. He’d wrestled with his decision for days, finally deciding the night before to take the opportunity Claude had offered.
He’d known it was wrong to leave like that. But he couldn’t stay. The lure of a racing future had proved too strong. The opportunity had been amazing. Who else would have been called from obscurity to be given a chance to make a name for himself in the racing world?
Now he wondered how she’d managed to come into this church Sunday after Sunday, remembering how they’d decorated it. Did she attend other weddings? Did she always remember?
How could she not?
Joe and Gillian would be married here in September. Once again the old building would be decorated for a beautiful bride. Vows would be exchanged. Happiness was never guaranteed, but he had a feeling it would permeate his brother’s marriage.
Look at him. He’d taken the opportunity of a lifetime and for years had been consumed with the racing, the fame, the money. Yet it all seemed shallow and unimportant when faced with dying young like his friend. No wife mourned Jacques. No children carried on the family name. Only his parents and friends remained to keep the memory of his life alive.
Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth. The old verse popped into mind. He’d done just that. So had Jacques. What good had it done either of them?
The service seemed interminable. He was uncomfortable with his thoughts. He glanced at his watch a half-dozen times. Minutes had never moved so slowly. Finally—the last hymn.
When the music ended, he took Jenny’s hand and hurried her from the pew and out the double doors.
“Where are we going?” she asked, clutching her Bible and almost running to keep up with his longer stride.
“Home. We’ll barbecue and maybe go down to the beach.”
“Yippee. I haven’t been so far this year.”
“I know, you’ve said it a dozen times a day since Memorial Day.”
“That’s when summer starts and Daddy says we can only go swimming in summer.”
He smiled at her. “And then only if it’s warm enough. Which it is not today. But we can walk along the shore in the cove.”
They were in the truck and heading out of the parking lot when he spotted Marcie and her dad walking toward Bill’s car. She recognized Zack’s truck and waved—probably at Jenny. Bill Winter glared at him, his anger almost palpable through the windshield. He wasn’t accepting Zack’s apology even if Zack could get Marcie to do so.
He refused to become discouraged. He knew what he wanted now and sooner or later would figure out a way to get it.
In the meantime, he would enjoy his time with his niece.
“How about we stop and pick up a picnic lunch and have that on the beach?” he asked.
“Okay!” Jenny’s enthusiastic response made him smile. Too bad there wasn’t someone else with them to share the moment.
That afternoon Zack sat in a growing patch of shade watching Jenny play along the water’s edge. He and his brother had spent many hours at the beach with his parents when they were younger, and then just the two of them when they were deemed old enough to stay safe. He and Marcie had also shared the beach when they were in high school. The days had been fun, swimming in the cold water, warming up in the sun, talking about their future. Carefree and happy, just as childhood should be.
He’d been to the beach in Cannes, on the Costa Blanca in Spain and along the Italian Riviera. The Med was definitely warmer. But here, surrounded by the rocky bluffs behind him, the small sandy spot was home.
“Can we walk again, Uncle Zack?” Jenny asked, running over to him. She’d made a basic sand castle and left it to the incoming tide that would sweep it away.
“We can.” He made sure the remnants of the picnic were stowed safely above the high-water mark and took her hand to walk along the water. They had taken off their shoes and splashed in the cold Atlantic. He wondered if he was too old to enjoy swimming later in the summer. The water hadn’t seemed as cold when he was a child.
“Tell me about you and daddy playing here,” she said.
Zack had discovered soon after he had returned to Rocky Point that Jenny loved hearing any stories he had to tell about her father when he was little. It gave Zack an odd sense of continuity. One generation passing on stories to the next. Would his own children like to hear about his life when he was a child?
Would he have children
one day or was he destined to go it alone?
The beach was entirely in shade by the time they decided to return to the house on the bluff above them. Zack carried the sack that held the trash from lunch, while Jenny carried her shoes and ran up the wooden steps. When he reached the top she was halfway to the house.
She turned and yelled, “The phone’s ringing,” and then resumed her race to the house. Zack followed quickly. It was early yet for Joe and Gillian to be calling. But it was Sunday—maybe they’d decided to stop early for the day. He couldn’t imagine anyone else calling.
“It’s for you, Uncle Zack,” Jenny said when he entered the kitchen. The phone receiver had been laid on the counter.
“Thanks, Jenny. Go rinse off the sand and salt water,” he said, putting down the bag and reaching for the phone. “Kincaid,” he said.
“Hey, Zack, Thomas Sterling here. How’s it going, guy?” Thomas was the team leader and chief liaison with their major sponsor.
Zack almost groaned when he heard Thomas on the line. He was trying to put that part of his life behind him. “I’m doing well, how’re things with you?”
“Not so good, Zack. We need you back. How’s your brother?”
“I told you before, I’m bowing out. I’m needed here.” He’d met opposition, but he’d been clear he was pulling out of racing. Joe’s burned hands were the perfect excuse to break away, and he had no desire to return.
“Hey, man, we can hire help for your brother. So far we haven’t found a replacement behind the wheel for you! We haven’t even finished in the money since you left.”
Zack leaned against the counter. It might be a long call. “I’m dropping out, Thomas, you know that.”
“Hey, man, you know that Jacques’s death hit everyone hard. But it was a fluke, a freak accident. You’ve been racing ten years, you’ve never even come close to buying it. We need you, man. Tell me what it’ll take to get you back. A bigger percentage? Different machine? What? The end of the circuit’s around the corner. You’re needed, buddy. Here, not in some forgotten corner of Maine.”
“It’s not a question of money or car. I’m done. That’s all.”
“It’s not, Zack. I need you, man. The team needs you, man. And your contract states you’ll be here.”
No racer did the job solo. There were sponsors, pit crews, publicity people, managers. Quite a few people made their livelihoods supporting a racing team. And his team was the best. But there were two other drivers for the team, and a slot now for a newcomer.
“Stockholm’s coming up, Zack. You know you always ace that course. No one has come close to your last record there. Tell you what, I’ll see about upping the percentage of the take if you race that one course. Just Stockholm, man. You can do it in your sleep. Say you’ll do it, then we’ll talk again.”
Zack wavered. Stockholm was a tough course. He’d been the winner three years running, last time by a healthy margin. For a moment he thought about Jacques. His friend had challenged him before that last race to meet in Stockholm to see who was the faster. Would Jacques have raced the course if Zack had been killed?
“I’ll think about it,” he said. Obligations, responsibilities, duty—all had been instilled in him by his parents. Did he have the right now to throw others under the bus so he could get what he wanted?
“Great. You’ll need to be here in a couple of weeks. The latest car tests show the engine on the T is superefficient and the torque ratio is amazing. It’s the fastest machine we’ve ever had. You need to get familiar with it. I’ll send the tickets.”
“Hold on. I said I’d think about it, not that it’s a done deal.” The dilemma was ironic. Leave them in the lurch as he had Marcie, or stand by his word as he had not done with her. Yet she was more important than anyone else in his life. Could he leave her behind again, even for a short time?
“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll hold off on the tickets for now, but let me know the answer soon, man. You have to do this.”
When Zack hung up, he didn’t move for a few minutes. The old enthusiasm for racing flared. He loved the intense concentration, the smooth working between man and machine. The triumph when he excelled. The cars he drove were masterpieces and could be coaxed to maximum performance by the right skills, which he had.
One more time—for Jacques?
Or was it for him?
One more race, and a challenging one at that, and then hang it up for good. It meant being gone from Rocky Point for a couple of weeks. He didn’t need that much practice. He knew that course, he just needed to get to know his new car.
And a bigger percentage would mean an added influx of money. Not that he needed it. He was comfortably well-off. Investments paid nicely. But an extra chunk of change never hurt—especially for his plans to use it if he won.
He’d do it. But he’d wait a day or two before calling Thomas back. Who knew what incentives the man might offer if he waited.
After dinner that night when the expected phone call from Joe came, Zack let Jenny answer it. He had pulled up the information on the Stockholm race and was reviewing the course, mentally remembering all the banks and turns. Focusing on the course, blocking all else from his mind.
“Daddy wants to talk to you,” Jenny said a short time later.
“Zack,” Joe said when he got on the line. “We’ve hit a snag.”
“With what?”
“Gillian’s car broke down when we were ready to leave this morning. Being Sunday, nothing’s open, so we have to wait until tomorrow before we’ll know what’s wrong and how long it’ll take to fix. This place is even smaller than Rocky Point, so no telling if the local garage will have any parts needed or the expertise to repair.”
“So, what’s happening in the meantime?” Zack asked.
“We went to the largest church in town this morning. It was a pretty building, all stone and wood. The people were friendly and the sermon really gave good guidelines for a righteous life. It was after church—we started to leave and only made it seven miles before the car totally died. I’ve looked at it and am not sure what’s exactly wrong with it, but I think it’s the fuel pump. I could change it in a heartbeat if I had the tools and the part. But it’s old and foreign to boot. Who knows if the local garage stocks the parts.”
“Take your time. You don’t have a deadline to be home. Once you’re on the road again, you can still follow your original plans for seeing the sights.”
“I wasn’t sure of your timetable,” Joe said.
Zack almost told him about the Stockholm race, but held off. For now he needed for Joe to know he was committed to settling back in Rocky Point and could be counted on to watch Jenny.
“I’m not going anywhere. Jenny and I are doing fine. Did you tell her?”
“No. We might be home when planned if we can get it repaired tomorrow.”
“I’ll tell her. You and Gillian enjoy your trip, take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”
For now.
Chapter Five
Marcie glanced at her watch. It was almost nine in the morning. Zack Kincaid would be waltzing into the café as if he owned it about now. Her two waitresses would vie for who served his table. And she’d watch the clock until ten when he’d finally leave. If this was his work ethic, show up late, leave early to get Jenny, she worried for Joe’s business. How could they keep up with the demand if one of the partners didn’t pull his weight?
That was unfair. She knew from the past both Kincaid men were focused when it came to work. And reliable. Well, in business, anyway. She sighed. She had to stop thinking like that. Zack was a fine, honorable man who had just chosen a different life from the one they’d planned all those years ago. She didn’t agree with his choice, or the way he handled it, but that didn’t make him anything less than human. People did stupid things—especially when young.
She wished she’d seen the signs back then. But even searching her memory, she could find no clues she’d missed. He’d hidden his feelings
so well she’d never suspected.
“Hi, boss. Zack wants to see you,” April said from the doorway.
She did not want to see him. It had been three days since she’d caught a glimpse of him leaving church. She was hoping for a full week without being tempted with the sight of Zack Kincaid. Just thinking about him had anticipation spiking, however. Was it too much to wish it would go away?
“Thanks. I’ll go out in a minute.” Once she had her emotions firmly in check. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her hair and rose, hoping she could keep this brief.
She spotted him immediately. He was already eating when she stepped from her office into the café. His dark hair had grown a little since he’d been back. She remembered he’d always worn it long when they’d been dating—mostly to get a rise out of his father, as she recalled. Or maybe because she’d once said she liked it longer.
He saw her and smiled, rising as she approached the table. When both were seated, she looked at him, her heart pounding. Frowning at her body’s betrayal, she asked what he wanted.
“A favor. A big one, actually.” He put down his fork and looked at her. His dark eyes held a beseeching look. She almost said, “Sure,” but caution raised its head.
“What kind of favor?”
“You would have said yes in the past.”
“I was younger then. What is it?”
“Kimberly has had Jenny over almost every day. The two girls are inseparable. I really appreciate her helping me out that way. I work, pick her up later and don’t have to shirk my job or my babysitting responsibilities.”
Marcie nodded. “You had to come here to tell me that?”
“No. Jenny asked if we could have Sally Anne over to barbecue on the beach at the foot of the bluff. I’m out of my element dealing with one seven-year-old—I can’t manage two. If you’d help out, I’d really appreciate it.
“I’m thinking Friday night, to give Sally Anne’s parents an evening to enjoy together, just the two of them. I’d have Sally Anne home by nine. Unless you have a date planned already.”
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