Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Home Song
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2002 by Media Arts Group, Inc. and Parachute Publishing, LLC
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Electronic edition: September, 2002
WELCOME BACK TO CAPE LIGHT
HOME. WHAT IMAGE COMES TO MIND WHEN YOU HEAR THAT word? Do you see four walls? An address? Or do you picture a place of refuge, of comfort, and of hope?
In my paintings, whether the subject is a garden or a city street or a sailboat in the bay, my real subject is always home—the home we all wish for. The place where we feel welcomed and safe. Home is a place like Cape Light.
It was my great joy to introduce you to Cape Light and to the people who live there in my first Cape Light novel. Now I want to welcome you back.
Cape Light is still a town where friendships flourish, where people enjoy the warmth of romance, the joy of family life, and the support of the entire community. In Cape Light folks reach out willingly to lend a helping hand. They are together, not alone, yet each heart holds its own unique story and its own secret. Emily Warwick, the poised mayor of the town, still mourns the husband she lost and the daughter she gave up for adoption twenty years ago. She would never guess that her daughter is in Cape Light struggling with her feelings about the mother she never knew. Lucy Bates is following her dream—to go to college. But will her husband be able to accept her choice? Reverend Ben’s gentle advice and special prayers have comforted Emily, Lucy, and nearly everyone in town, but he wonders who will comfort him as he tries to heal the hurt that wounds his own family.
Many of you have written to say that you see yourself in the people of Cape Light. I can see myself in them, too. They are like us—seekers who are searching for their own path to find lasting love and to face each day with grace and faith in God.
Come with me and meet again the people of Cape Light. Step into a place that sings out the joy of coming home. Come join the home song of Cape Light—you know it by heart.
—Thomas Kinkade
CHAPTER ONE
THE HOUSE WAS DARK, DESERTED LOOKING, EXCEPT for a small square of light in an upstairs window. Her mother’s bedroom.
So she’s taken to her bed. Pulling out all the stops tonight, isn’t she? Emily Warwick unlocked the door, then clicked on the lights in the foyer. Her mother kept the house so dark, it was a wonder she didn’t fall and break a hip.
“Emily, is that you?” Lillian called from upstairs.
“Yes, Mother. Who else would it be?” Emily climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed for the master bedroom.
“No reason to be snide,” Lillian scolded.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be.” Emily entered the room, then paused at the foot of her mother’s bed.
The scene was just as she’d pictured it: her mother propped up on pillows, wearing her satin-trimmed bed jacket and a dismal expression. Despite her height and large frame, Lillian looked small and frail. The mahogany four-poster was actually too large for the room, as was most of her mother’s furniture. The pieces, taken from Lilac Hall when their family was forced to leave, were better suited to grander surroundings.
As was her mother, Emily reflected.
“Did you bring the pills?”
“Right here.” Emily showed her the white bag from the pharmacy. “But the doctor said to take them only if you definitely had a migraine. The medication is very strong.”
Lillian shifted against the pillows. “Of course it’s a migraine. I ought to know after all these years.”
Emily studied her. Maybe this wasn’t an act after all, a convenient emergency designed to make Emily miss her sister’s engagement party. Maybe the strain of opposing Jessica’s choice in a husband was finally getting to her.
“You’re all dressed up tonight. Am I keeping you from something?” Lillian said.
“You know where I’m going.” Emily glanced at her watch as she sat on the edge of the bed. “And I’m nearly an hour late already. Jessica must be wondering what happened to me.”
“Oh, yes. The happy couple is celebrating their engagement.” Lillian drew out the last word on a sour note. “I’d almost forgotten.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” Emily cast her a doubtful look.
“Your sister is throwing her life away, you know. All she’s achieved so far, all she could achieve. She could marry anyone. But no, she picks out some muscle-bound, empty-headed laborer—”
“That’s enough,” Emily cut in. “You don’t even know Sam Morgan. He’s a good man.”
“Good for someone else’s daughter. Not mine! Not after what I went through to raise both of you. To give you every opportunity to rise above the rest of the world’s mediocrity.”
Lillian’s voice trembled on a sharp, high note, and her cheeks grew flushed.
“Calm down, Mother. I already know how you feel about it—”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down. I know you played a part in this love match, Emily. I know you encouraged your sister to marry him, so don’t deny it.”
Yes, she had encouraged Jessica, sometimes feeling as if she were in a mortal battle for her sister’s soul—or for Jessica’s future happiness, at the very least. Bitter experience had taught Emily the cost of giving in to their mother’s imperious will. She knew she couldn’t change the past, but she hoped and prayed that Jessica wouldn’t make the same mistake she had, giving up the one thing that mattered to her most in the world.
“Why would I deny it?” Emily replied, unfazed. “Jessica and Sam love each other and belong together.”
“Please, spare me. You sound like the back cover of a novel.” Lillian looked disgusted.
Emily bit back a retort. What was the point of arguing? There was no winning this round. Besides, she reminded herself, the Lord asks us to have patience, even when it isn’t easy. Especially when it isn’t.
“Let’s just drop it, Mother. This conversation isn’t going anywhere.”
“You know I’m right. You just won’t admit it,” Lillian challenged her, unwilling to back down. “Do yo
u think it was easy for me after your father died? Salvaging what I could? Making a new life for you and your sister? And finally, old and sick and looking to my daughters for some comfort, this is the thanks I get. Mrs. Sam Morgan,” she concluded bitterly. “I could almost laugh if I didn’t feel like crying.”
An idle threat, Emily thought. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her mother cry. But clearly her mother was overwrought; her blood pressure was probably shooting up to a dangerous height.
“I’ll get you some water for these pills,” Emily said, getting to her feet. She returned a few moments later with a glass of water.
Lillian took the medication, then sank back into the pillows with a deep sigh.
“Can I get you anything else? Something to eat maybe?” Emily offered.
“I’m not hungry. In fact, my stomach is quite upset. I couldn’t eat a thing. I thought you said this prescription was strong. I don’t feel a thing.”
“It should take effect soon.” Emily sat on the edge of the bed again. Lillian’s eyes slowly closed, and her breathing became slow and deep. Emily thought she had drifted off when her mother suddenly said, “How is your campaign coming along? I don’t hear much about it.”
“It’s only September. Things won’t really heat up for another month or so. Most people think I’ve done a pretty good job, and Charlie Bates doesn’t have much to run on.”
Emily had been elected mayor of Cape Light three years ago, which was still a source of great pride for her mother. If she didn’t win again, Emily knew her mother would be very disappointed. Maybe even more than she would be.
“Well, don’t rest on your laurels,” Lillian advised. “Charlie Bates is despicable. But there are plenty of fools in this village who will vote for him, just to spite our family.”
“I think Charlie appeals to a certain group of voters in town,” Emily allowed. “But I don’t think it has much to do with our family. That’s ancient history, Mother. Nobody thinks about it anymore.”
“Of course they do. You just don’t want to see it, Emily. You’ve always been that way. You never want to think badly of people. Just like your father.”
Unlike you, Mother. You never miss an opportunity. Emily let out a long breath, gathering her patience again.
“What about church tomorrow? Will you be up to it?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to see how I feel.” Lillian sat up and adjusted the covers. “Sara Franklin said she might stop by. She picked up a book I had on reserve at the library.”
“Very thoughtful of her.”
“She’s a thoughtful girl. Full of opinions, though, especially when it comes to books. She’ll argue with me until the cows come home.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. Good for her,” Emily said with a small smile.
She liked Sara very much and was grateful for the attention the young woman showed to her mother. It was an unexpected friendship, but somehow, it worked. Seemingly shy, Sara was not the least bit cowed by Lillian’s formidable personality.
Emily stole a secret glance at her watch and nearly gasped when she noticed the time. Poor Jessica. She’ll think I’ve forgotten her.
“Is there anything else you need?” she asked, standing up. “I really have to get over to the party. It’s getting late.” When her mother didn’t reply, Emily added, “I promised Jessica. She’ll be very disappointed if I don’t come.”
“Yes, of course. We don’t dare disappoint Jessica.” Lillian glared at Emily, then turned her face away. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive,” she added in a tight voice.
Emily knew she was being manipulated but still felt a twinge of guilt at her mother’s wounded expression. “I’ll stop by on my way home.”
“Don’t bother. You’ll only wake me, probably give me cardiac arrest from the shock. I’ll think a burglar is breaking in.”
“Oh, Mother, really.” Emily shook her head with a small smile. “I can’t remember the last time anyone was robbed around here. You couldn’t be safer.”
“Of course you’d say that. You’re the mayor,” Lillian retorted. “I’m just an old woman, an invalid practically, all alone in a big house. Which reminds me, I need you to take my pearl necklace back to the bank. You know I don’t like to keep good jewelry at home. It’s in the bottom drawer of my dresser.”
“Oh . . . all right.” Emily stepped over to the dresser and found the jewelry case tucked under a pile of slips and nightgowns. The scent of lavender sachet—her mother’s scent—floated up and surrounded her for a moment.
With the dark blue velvet box in hand, she turned to face her mother again. “Why don’t you ask Jessica to take it back? She’s at the bank every day.”
“Because I asked you. If you’re too busy to do it, simply say so and I’ll ask someone else.”
The necklace was among her mother’s most treasured possessions, a family heirloom that had first belonged to her great-grandmother. Lillian had always promised her daughters that they would each wear the pearl necklace on their wedding day, and eventually one of them would inherit it to pass it down to her children.
Now the family tradition was taking an ironic twist, Emily realized. For, in fact, her mother had not worn the pearls on her wedding day because she had married against her parents’ wishes. When the pearls had eventually come into her possession, Lillian had held them out to her daughters like the ultimate prize, the prize she had been denied.
And now the family history was about to repeat itself.
“You’re not going to let Jessica wear the necklace at her wedding, are you?” Emily asked her mother.
“No, I will not. If she doesn’t need my approval or my blessing to be married, so be it. I won’t be attending the event, and I see no reason why she should wear the pearls.”
Of course, it was a punishment, Emily realized. She was punishing Jessica the same way she had been punished by her parents.
“But she does want your approval and your blessings, Mother,” Emily assured her. “You know she does.”
“She has an odd way of showing it, then. Very odd, if you ask me.” Her mother met Emily’s gaze with a hard, determined stare, then turned back to her book again. “If you’re going, Emily, just go. You’ve badgered me enough for one evening.”
Emily felt so frustrated, she could hardly speak. Only Lillian Warwick could be so completely impossible and yet manage to cast herself as the injured party.
“All right, good night, then,” Emily said, keeping her voice level. She put the jewelry case in her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “If you need me, call the cell phone number. I’ll have it in my purse.”
“How up-to-date of you,” her mother remarked in a dry tone. She did not say good night.
EMILY DROVE DOWN PROVIDENCE STREET, THEN THROUGH THE BACK streets of the village until she emerged on the Beach Road. As she headed toward Sam Morgan’s house, her mother’s harsh vow echoed in her thoughts. Would she really ignore Jessica’s wedding? That would be extreme, even for Lillian; and it would hurt Jessica terribly. Although Jessica had never said it outright, Emily knew her sister was counting on her to help wear down Lillian’s objections—at the very least, to persuade their mother to attend the ceremony.
I didn’t do so well tonight, did I? I’ll have to have more patience the next time. Jessica and Sam haven’t even set the date yet. Mother will come around in time, I hope. . . .
Emily took a quick, sharp turn onto the narrow dirt road that led to Sam’s house—that “rundown shack in the woods” her mother had once called it. It was actually a lovely old house on a beautiful piece of land, near a pond. It was abandoned when Sam bought it from the bank at auction a few years ago. Most people would have knocked it down and built something new on the property. But Sam saw its potential and had the know-how and skill to restore it.
Now she felt her spirits lift at the sight of the charming old house. Every window was glowing with light, the large downstair
s rooms filled with movement and life. The doors were open to the cool autumn night, and the sounds of happy voices, laughter, and music floated out to embrace her like a warm, familiar hug.
Emily stepped inside and found that the rooms to either side of the small entrance were crowded with guests, most of them familiar faces. Carolyn Lewis, the Reverend Ben’s wife, was standing nearby, talking with Grace Hegman, owner of the Bramble Shop, an antique store in town.
Emily was about to join them when she spotted her sister across the room, talking with the Reverend Ben. Jessica’s fiancé, Sam, stood close by, his arm loosely draped around Jessica’s shoulders. When Jessica spoke, Sam turned and glanced down at her, his dark eyes shining, as if Jessica was the most precious and amazing treasure in the world. There was clearly so much love between them, it made Emily’s heart ache.
Her sister looked beautiful tonight in a sapphire blue satin top and loose black pants. Her long curly hair hung loose past her shoulders, one side pushed back by a glittering clip. Although Jessica was fairly tall, she looked almost petite standing beside Sam, whose dark good looks seemed a perfect contrast to Jessica’s reddish-brown hair and fair complexion. They looked so happy, so right together. How could anyone object to that match? Emily wondered.
Jessica suddenly turned and caught sight of Emily. She smiled, her blue eyes wide with relief, and quickly moved through the crowd toward her.
“Sorry I’m so late. I got hung up at Mother’s,” Emily explained as she greeted Jessica with a hug.
“I thought it was something like that. Is she all right?” Jessica asked, taking Emily’s coat.
“Just a headache. I brought her some pills. She seemed fine when I left.”
“Oh . . . well, that’s good.” Jessica met Emily’s gaze, then looked away. Emily knew Jessica had hoped that their mother would change her mind at the last minute and come to the party.
Emily handed her the two gift boxes she was carrying. “Some presents. This one is for you and Sam, for your engagement, and this is for your new house.”
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