The Widows of Sea Trail (The Widows of Sea Trail Trilogy)

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  Looking in the mirror and checking myself out from all angles I figured that all in all, I was as ready as I was ever going to be. Now what? Where were the men?

  I had a feeling that this was the sticking point most widows had difficulty with. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to resort to eharmony.com to keep my promise to my mother.

  Chapter Four

  Déjà Vu Iwas sitting in my hot tub on my back deck, alternately looking out at the golf course and reading one of the latest romance paperbacks I had found at The Pelican Bookstore. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something flash by. I looked up just in time to see a tall man with a big black dog running from the cart path to the parking lot of the condos right behind my house. Had I looked up sooner, I would have seen his face; as it was, all I could see was his back. He was shirtless, wearing only running shorts and lowtop sneakers. His back was covered with a glistening sheen of sweat. His thick sand and silver colored hair bounced as he ran—the sun shining on it made it appear burnished gold in places. I had to bite my lip to keep from sighing.

  He had a muscular body that made his break-neck pace look relaxed and graceful. The muscles on his broad shoulders rippled as he pumped his arms and his thighs contracted and expanded with each long stride. A nicely defined butt was the last thing I saw as he disappeared behind some trees. I sat mesmerized and watched for him to come out on the other side of the copse. For mere seconds I saw him and the dog that flanked him as they ran up the steps to one of the condos. The stairs were in shadow so I couldn’t tell which unit he was going into. I had friends who owned a villa in that building and I wondered if perhaps he was renting it from them. They were one of the few on the rental program who allowed pets in their unit.

  Seeing him had reminded me of the man I had seen back at Dick’s in Virginia. His carriage seemed to be the same and he had the same build and coloring. But how likely would that be? The odds were way against him being the same man. And even so, what would it mean if he were?

  My cell phone rang. I kept both it and the cordless house phone on the steps leading into the hot tub, because if I didn’t, one or the other invariably rang and forced me to run dripping through the house.

  It was Mom. She was always calling to check on me, to see how I was doing and to make sure I was eating, and not getting too depressed. I hadn’t told anyone I was preparing to date again, so she was the only one encouraging me with my makeover program. And apparently she thought it a good idea to call often to check on my progress.

  “So, did you get your hair cut?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much? Not too much I hope. You have such

  pretty hair.”

  “Nine inches, but would you believe it’s still below

  my shoulders?”

  “Really? My it sure had grown.”

  Neither of us wanted to mention that I hadn’t walked

  into a beauty shop for quite some time. “I really am enjoying

  going back to my aerobics classes, too. I feel so much better.

  Just yesterday I rode six miles on my bike. I rode all the way

  to Calabash and back. I even treated myself to lunch at The

  Grapevine.”

  “Well, good for you. Which pasta dish did you

  have?”

  She knew my passion for pasta. My daughter, Stephanie, was now indulging hers in the premier place for pasta—Milan, Italy. “Bow-tie Shrimp this time. It was

  excellent.”

  “Next time we come down, you’ll have to take us

  there.”

  “I wish you and daddy would come down now.” “Maybe in the fall. Right now he’s enjoying playing

  golf with his buddies on his days off.”

  “You should go out and play, too. I played today with

  Tessa and Viv. It was a hoot!” I was still trying not to tell

  her that a few weeks ago I had gone to the dark side, to the

  mystical realm with my friends, to cast a spell for a man.

  Some things were better not said, especially to your very

  Catholic mother.

  “No, I’d really rather go shopping.”

  “Who didn’t know that?”

  “I bought you something yesterday.”

  “Mom!” I wailed.

  “You’ll like it. It’s a very pretty dress, in that blue I

  like on you so much. I haven’t seen you in a dress in a long

  time. I mailed it to you this morning.”

  “People don’t really wear dresses all that much down

  here, it’s shorts and capris this time of year.”

  “Men like to see a woman in a dress every once in a

  while.”

  There was silence on both lines. “Thank you. First

  chance I get I’ll be sure to wear it.”

  “Good. You’ll look lovely in it.”

  “Thanks, mom.”

  “You’re welcome. I am praying for your knight you

  know.”

  “I know mom, I know. You’re always praying for

  me.”

  “I have a good feeling about this, a very good

  feeling.”

  “Did you have a bad feeling just before Stephen had

  his heart attack?”

  “No, not that I recall, but then God doesn’t always

  tell me his plans up front.”

  “So why do you think He is now?”

  “Sometimes a mother just knows. Just make sure you

  always look your best, the man He’s sending could be just

  around the corner at any time.”

  “Mom, I can’t possibly be any readier than I am. I’ve

  had the works done. In the two weeks since I’ve been back,

  I’ve had a manicure, a pedicure, a facial, my teeth cleaned

  and whitened, an herbal wrap after being loufahed to death,

  my hair cut, conditioned, and highlighted, and my eyebrows

  shaped and filled in permanently. Hell, I even had a bikini

  wax, but not the Brazilian one the woman wanted to do.” “Well, I wouldn’t think that was necessary.” “Mom, you forget I live at the beach. I wear a bathing

  suit more than I wear underwear. In fact, I’m in a bathing

  suit right now.”

  “I hope it’s got nice coverage. The younger generation

  doesn’t believe in leaving anything to the imagination.” “If you’re worried about that, you should be lecturing

  Stephanie, not me.”

  “I do. Okay, honey, love you. Make sure you . . .” “I know, make sure I always look my best.” “You’re very pretty naturally, but it wouldn’t hurt to

  have some pretty clothes on, and your hair combed nicely

  and some make-up . . .”

  “Mom, I get the picture,” I laughed.

  “I know you do!”

  “Well, I have to go, I’m turning pruney.”

  “Bye honey.”

  “Bye mom, I love you.” I hung up the phone and

  stepped out of the hot tub. I stood on the steps in front of it to

  dry myself and heard a wolf whistle any male would be proud of. I jerked my head around just in time to see the mystery man on Maryann and Bill’s screened-in porch putting a liter bottle of water to his lips. The building was angled for a view of the creek behind it so the rear porch had a side view of my back deck. The runner was now nonchalantly draining the bottle and pretending he hadn’t noticed me in my pink bikini. Apparently he had liked what he saw and it tickled me that he had, because he was some kind of hot. It was the boost to my ego that I desperately needed. I casually wrapped my towel around my body and pranced through my screened-in porch and into my house.

  Chapter Five

  Doggone

  I wanted to watch my favorite movie, Ladyhawke.

  I had tried several times to get my VCR to play the tape, but I could not get the damn thing to work no matt
er what I did. It finally occurred to me that maybe it was broken. I had no clue how old it was, I could only remember that Stephen had bought it up north on one of his jaunts to Sam’s and had spent half the afternoon figuring how to hook it up. But it definitely was not working. I hated not having a man around!

  I was more than disappointed; I had looked forward to this all day. I was completely up for my favorite romantic movie. I’d even made the popcorn. I was in my comfy jogging clothes, a mismatched set, faded from navy blue to dark slate, my hair was twisted and clipped on top of my head, my makeup scrubbed off and my new nighttime moisturizing treatment smeared all over my face. I wanted my girl’s night in, even if I was the only girl participating. Well, technically Gimlet was a girl, too, and she would help with the popcorn if I let her.

  I pushed the eject button and took the tape out of the machine. I stood up and was about to put it back in its case when I noticed the sun going down beyond the condos behind my house. My eyebrow quirked as an idea came to me. Maryann and Bill had both a VCR and a DVD player in their condo and I had the key. They had given me one in case I ever had company and needed to use it. I pursed my lips and tried to remember if it was rented right now. There were only a handful of cars parked in the parking lot, so maybe it wasn’t. It had been a week since I’d seen the jogger who’d been staying there. I could still hear his wolf whistle if I tried. I knew the phone number to the unit so I dialed it. I let it ring ten times, no answer. Well that was a good sign. I went into the kitchen to get the number for the rental office and was told that no, it wasn’t rented this week.

  Cool , I thought. I can just walk out my back door, go up to the condo and watch my movie. No one would even see me, so I wouldn’t have to bother with changing my clothes or wiping the gooey mask off my face. I grabbed the tape, popcorn, and the bottle of wine I’d just opened. I thought about taking Gimlet, but she seemed pretty content snoozing on my bed.

  As I walked across the room I looked at the label on the wine bottle. It was homemade; one Jack Cain had given me from his private reserves. It was amazing stuff and I was lucky he remembered me and gave me a bottle every once in a while. I did miss having someone to drink with though, as I tended to finish whatever bottle I opened, but I wasn’t driving, so that wouldn’t be a huge problem.

  I didn’t even bother to change my shoes. I clomped down my deck stairs in an old pair of slippers Stephanie had left here. They looked like huge bear paws, furry with fake claws coming from the toes—they were a fluorescent lime green.

  I entered the condo and turned the lights on low in the main area, a combined family room and kitchen area complete with a dinette set. I smiled at the soft teals and mauves Maryann had used to decorate, it was a relaxing combination that practically shouted beach house. I found a hand-painted wineglass in one of the cabinets and poured a liberal amount of wine into it. Then I put the tape into the player, turned on the TV and pushed play. The beginning credits to my favorite movie rolled across the screen and I settled in to watch.

  Mouse was running from the guards of Aquilla, the soundtrack trademark music coming to a fevered pitch when I was startled by a sound coming from the foyer. It sounded like someone had put a key in the door and was working it in the lock. I sat up straight just as I heard the door open.

  “Anybody home?” a man’s voice called. He sounded puzzled as if hearing music was the last thing he’d expected.

  I jumped up knocking the popcorn that had been in my lap to the floor and was standing staring wide-mouthed when a man walked around the corner. And not just any man—the man from Dick’s. My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped. He was staring also. What was he doing here?

  For several moments neither of us spoke. Then we both spoke at the same time, the words running over each other.

  “My VCR is broken. I was using my friend’s VCR to watch a movie . . .”

  “I stayed here last week and I was looking for one of my dog’s toys. I must have left it here . . .”

  Then we both laughed. He stepped forward and put his hand out, “Matt Hunter, I have a house on the plantation over on Discovery Lake. One of my sisters came down from New Jersey with a whole passel of kids and I had to have some space, so I rented this condo last week.”

  I took his hand, while self-consciously with the other I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Catalina Stanford. I live in the house over there,” I pointed out the side window to my house where you could see the family room and kitchen lights blazing through the open blinds.

  I lifted my eyes from where they were focused on our joined hands. His skin felt warm and his hand wonderfully large against my smaller one. I wasn’t expecting the feeling that jolted through me when my eyes met his. They had both a welcoming and unsettling look, but as his flinty gray eyes stared into mine, they changed. I saw interest, profound and intense interest. Then he smiled and I almost fell to my knees. This man was one of the handsomest men I had ever seen.

  So, it turned out that I had seen him before, twice— once at Dick’s and then just last week when he had gone for a run with his dog. He had stayed here in Maryann and Bill’s condo. He had been the one who had whistled at me. How weird was this? At Dick’s I hadn’t been close enough to notice that there were so many fine gray hairs intertwined with the light brown ones, especially near the temples. Or to appreciate the finely sculptured brows that gave him such an intelligent expression. With his squared-off jaw, chiseled just enough to remove the classical Adonis look, he was all male no doubt about that. He was older than I had originally thought though. It was something about the eye crinkles and his refined, confident manner. My best guess put him in his late forties, early fifties.

  Self consciously, I remembered the gray goop drying and cracking on my face, my uncombed hair haphazardly clipped into a topknot sticking up from my head, and the faded vintage clothes I was wearing along with Steph’s ridiculous slippers. Not only was I not wearing any makeup to enhance my looks, I was detracting from it in more ways than I could count. My mother had practically predicted this, and I cringed from the humiliation.

  “I won’t bother you,” he said as he turned to go down the hallway, “I just need to find Folsum’s monkey, it must have been flung under a bed.”

  I followed him down the hall, stopping at the bathroom to grab a wad of toilet tissue so I could wipe off my night cream. “Folsum?” I asked.

  “My lab. He’s back at the house whining and I know it’s because he wants his monkey. I know it sounds stupid . . .”

  “No, no it doesn’t,” I said as I took another long swipe at my forehead then reached to toss the sticky tissues into the bathroom trash can. “Pets are just like children. And I know some that are spoiled much worse. Mine for example.”

  He turned as he entered a bedroom and smiled back at me. “Well, I’m glad you understand, and I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  “Oh, it’s not a problem. I was just watching a movie . . . eating some popcorn.”

  “Well, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.” I watched him as he bent to his knees, lifted the comforter and looked under the bed. “Nope, not here.”

  “I’ll look under the other one,” I volunteered, and turned to go into the master bedroom.

  I was on my hands and knees, my butt high in the air trying to pull the toy out when I heard him come into the room. Keeping my head on the floor, I turned my head to the side and saw his shoes, a very nice pair of Italian-looking loafers, planted several feet behind me.

  This was just getting worse and worse. I could only imagine what this looked like to him. I had to flatten out to stretch my hand far enough to reach the toy, and dig my slippers into the carpet to wiggle under the bed. Finally, I felt the fuzzy tail and I managed to grab it. To keep it from pulling out of my fingers, I slowly inched the monkey out from under the bed. Then I got up on all fours and eased back from the bed.

  A hand reached down to help me up and I took it. I loved the feel of it, so big a
nd all encompassing. He pulled me up as if I was weightless. I let go of his hand and he reached for the monkey I had in my other one. Gimlet had a basket of toys that looked just as ratty and chewed up.

  “Looks well-loved,” I said.

  “It is. Folsum’s had it since he was a puppy. He’s three now.”

  “Someone like Johnny Cash?”

  “No, not particularly. I rescued him. His owner was sent to prison when he was just a puppy. I was grateful to get him, so in a way it’s because of the prison that I got him. So I named him Folsum. It was better than Sing Sing, or Alcatraz.”

  “Oh,” I said as I started walking back to the living room. The movie was still playing. The battle scene with Navarre was on screen.

  “Ladyhawke, huh?” he asked as he stood by the sofa. Then he saw the popcorn I had spilled. “I must have made you do this, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you clean it up.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, I can do it.”

  But he had already stooped to pick up the popcorn and was putting it back in the bag.

  “I made you spill it, I’ll get you some more.”

  “No, no, that’s not necessary.”

  “It is,” he said firmly as he stood. Again I was amazed at his height, he must be six-four easily, I thought.

  “I have some just like this at the house, Orville’s Light Butter. I’ll be right back.” And before I knew it, he and the monkey were gone.

  I stood listening to the echo of the door closing. Then one thought raced into my head: He’s coming back!

  I had another chance, a chance to present a better version of the woman I was. I grabbed the condo key from the counter, ran out the door and down the steps, across the parking lot and through my back yard to my deck and from there into the porch and house. If someone had seen me they would have thought I had fire ants nipping at my heels. Once inside I ran for my bedroom. Out of breath, I quickly managed to change into a pair of jeans, put on a bra, and pull a favorite sweater over my head. In the bathroom I reached for my brush, ran it through my hair and ran a wash cloth under the tap until it was warm enough to melt the remaining gunk off my face. I quickly brushed my teeth, gargled some mouthwash, and dabbed on some lip-gloss. I figured that was all I had time for. I slid my feet into moccasins and ran back to the condo.