by Cindy Kirk
The sight that greeted him always made him smile. The 1967 Pontiac GTO would be at home on any dealership’s showroom floor. The muscle car’s high-gloss paint gleamed like a finely polished cherry in the fluorescent lights. The silver spokes of the mag wheels provided a nice contrast to the black sidewalls.
The black convertible top was up, but Owen planned to remedy that the second he drove it out of the building.
Owen slid behind the wheel and pushed a remote that raised the overhead door. After rolling down the windows, he pincered a piece of lint off the black leather passenger seat.
The second he turned the key, the engine roared. Owen’s smile widened. Motors had always fascinated him. As a teen, he’d developed a particular love for 1960 muscle cars. The Pontiac GTO had quickly become his favorite.
His father hadn’t understood—or shared—his passion. Or maybe, Owen thought, the man simply hadn’t wanted to encourage his interest in mechanics. Tessa hadn’t understood, either, but when he told her a widow in Egg Harbor had a GTO for sale, she’d gone with him to look at it.
The car had been in much the same shape as the ramshackle outbuilding where it had been stored. Though Tess had difficulty seeing the vehicle’s potential, when he’d whispered that the price was a really hot deal, she encouraged him to buy it.
They hadn’t really had the money, but it was as if she’d realized how many sacrifices he’d made for her schooling and wanted to give something back to him.
How had he forgotten her generosity?
Owen shoved the thought aside and drove the vehicle into the sunshine, the top already retracting.
When he and Lindsay had been together, he’d showed her the car, but they hadn’t taken it out. Though Mindy had told him she wished it was pink, she had loved the convertible.
Owen wished his daughter could go on this celebratory ride with them. Mindy would be over the moon knowing a baby girl was on the way. He could see her wanting to fill the baby’s dresser with everything pink and frilly.
Tears stung Owen’s eyes. When he stopped at the light, he pulled sunglasses from the glove compartment and put them on.
Today was a day for celebration. For the next few hours, Owen planned to avoid glancing in his rearview and only look ahead.
Nine
“This is a beautiful car.” Lindsay slipped into the passenger seat, leaned her head back and smiled.
When Owen had texted that he was on his way, she’d grabbed her purse and headed down the stairs. It was too nice a day to spend even ten minutes waiting indoors.
Her jaw had dropped when he’d pulled up in the red GTO. While he rounded the front of the vehicle to open her door, she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put on her sunglasses.
Owen kept the conversation light as they drove through town, the sun warm and the sky a brilliant blue. The tightness that had gripped her chest most of the day began to ease.
Owen cast a sideways glance. “What do you think about driving down Millionaire’s Row?”
“I love that stretch of road.” Lindsay shifted in her seat to face him. “The view is amazing.”
Nodding, Owen veered left at the next intersection.
The waterfront properties built along the road were some of the most expensive homes in the area. David and Hadley Chapin lived on this road. Cade and Marigold Rallis owned a piece of land and hoped to eventually build.
Lindsay cast an admiring glance at a Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired home, then at one with a third-floor crow’s nest.
“When Ami and I were young, the cottages along here were small.” Lindsay’s lips lifted. “We would come here and pick buckets of wild blackberries and thimbleberries.”
“When we moved here, no one in my family had heard of a thimbleberry.” Owen chuckled. “We didn’t even realize thimbleberries and blackcap raspberries were the same.”
“I have a fabulous recipe for thimbleberry-strawberry cream cheese pie. It’s kind of labor intensive, but it’s super good. I—” Lindsay stopped herself just before she offered to make a pie for him.
“My mother once made a thimbleberry pie.” Owen grimaced.
“Too tart?” Lindsay ventured.
“None of us could force down more than a bite.”
“Thimbleberries are usually too tart to be the only ingredient in a pie.” Lindsay cocked her head. “Does your mother like to bake?”
“Not at all.” Owen laughed. “I can’t recall why she made the pie. Mom was never one for homemaking stuff. Her career as a college professor was her focus. That dedication and single-mindedness explain why she and Tessa get along so well.”
Lindsay picked up on the present tense. She hadn’t realized Owen’s mother and his ex were close. “They stay in touch?”
“Probably.” A song that had hit number one a couple of years ago played on the radio. The tune was catchy, with a refrain you couldn’t help belting out. Especially when driving down a country road with the sun warming your face and a light breeze on your cheeks.
Lindsay had barely started to sing when Owen switched stations. She turned to look at him, or rather, at his profile.
“I never liked that song.” Owen spoke without glancing in her direction. “The bay is calm today.”
The water might be smooth as glass, but the muscle jumping in Owen’s jaw told Lindsay he wasn’t calm. Something had caused him to tense up. Was it the talk about his mother? From what she knew, he’d had little contact with his family since they moved from Good Hope.
“I read an article recently that said gazing at water makes you calmer and more creative.” Lindsay brought the article up in her head. “The research related to oceans, but I think the same would apply to Green Bay.”
Owen glanced briefly at the water.
“I think you have to stare at it longer than five seconds.” Lindsay spoke in a teasing tone, then narrowed her gaze. “Is that Marigold and Cade?”
Owen must have seen the couple at the same time, because he slowed, then pulled into a dirt driveway leading to an empty lot on a large acreage. The convertible came to a stop behind Cade’s truck.
Before Owen cut the motor, the sheriff and his wife were at the car.
“I heard you had a GTO.” Cade’s gaze held appreciation. “1966?”
“’67.”
“What’s it got under the hood?”
Lindsay pushed open her door just in time to hear Owen say something about a 389 V-8 and four-barrel carb. Based on Cade’s low whistle, she assumed that must be good.
Marigold slipped around the car to greet Lindsay.
“Nice ride.” Marigold flashed a bright smile, her gaze lingering on the car. “I adore convertibles. Especially red ones.”
When the hood popped open, Lindsay decided she and Owen were staying for a while, which was okay with her. She liked Ami’s youngest sister. “I can’t remember the last time I rode in a convertible with the top down.”
“If you’re headed to David and Hadley’s, they should be home now.” Marigold leaned inside the car to study the dash. “They just left here.”
“Actually, we were just out for a drive.” Lindsay did her best to keep her voice casual, as if she and Owen driving around Good Hope on a Monday afternoon was a frequent occurrence. “We spotted you and Cade and decided to stop. I hope we’re not intruding.”
“Don’t be silly.” Marigold waved a dismissive hand, her gold-tipped nails glittering in the late afternoon sun. The youngest Bloom sister was an adorable pixie with curly blond hair framing an elfin face. “Cade and I come here often, mostly to remind ourselves this land is actually ours.”
Lindsay had heard the story from Ami. Cade had inherited a substantial sum of money shortly before becoming sheriff. When he’d fallen in love with Good Hope—and with Marigold—he’d used his inheritance to buy this plot of land.
“I hear David drew up house plans.” As that fact had been mentioned recently at several gatherings, Lindsay knew it wasn’t a secret. �
�Are you getting closer to building?”
“The house we’d like to build, one that will do justice to this property, is still outside our budget.” Marigold lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug.
Marigold’s hair salon did a good business in Good Hope, but according to Ami, it was her sister’s premier clients who brought in the big bucks. When Marigold worked in Chicago, she’d developed quite a following, especially among the rich and famous.
Recently, Marigold had started flying to Chicago one weekend a month to see clients. She also continued to do hair for models involved in high-profile fashion-week activities across the country.
“—infertility stuff doesn’t come cheap.”
Lindsay pulled her thoughts back and focused on the petite blonde. “Infertility?”
“Cade and I have been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to get pregnant.”
“You haven’t been married all that—”
“I have endometriosis.” A look of pain crossed Marigold’s face. “That’s one of the reasons we started trying to get pregnant right after the wedding.”
Lindsay rested a hand on Marigold’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s crazy how some people who don’t want a baby get pregnant without trying, while those of us who really want one struggle.”
Not certain what to say to that, especially in light of her own circumstance, Lindsay settled for a sympathetic nod.
“Next up is Clomid and IUI.” Marigold held up a hand, two fingers crossed. “Please send prayers and positive vibes our way.”
“Will do. And it will happen.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lindsay saw the two men step back from the car.
Owen talked with his hands, the way he did when he felt passionately about a topic. Seeing him so animated warmed Lindsay’s heart. After Mindy’s death, he’d cut himself off from everyone.
Except her.
He’d let her in, accepted the comfort she willingly gave, and in the process, she’d fallen in love.
Once his world had righted and he no longer needed her support, he’d given her the heave-ho.
“Are you two back together?” Marigold’s blue eyes sparkled with interest. “I read in the Open Door that you and Owen went on a walk after church yesterday.”
Lindsay blinked. “Katie Ruth put that in the newsletter?”
“In the gossip section.”
The Open Door, a daily e-newsletter, allowed anyone interested in the day-to-day of Good Hope to stay informed.
“Is it true?” Marigold pressed.
“That we took a walk? Yes, that’s true.” As she spoke, Lindsay maneuvered her way over the uneven terrain toward the back of the lot.
Lindsay craned her neck back to gaze up at the large stand of evergreens. “These trees are like sentinels guarding your land until you’re ready to build.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Marigold was like a dog with a bone. “Are you and Owen back together?”
Lindsay wished she could demand Marigold go somewhere else to play, like she and Ami used to tell her when she annoyed them. But they weren’t children, and this was Marigold’s property.
Besides, Marigold didn’t mean any harm. She was a friend. A friend who, like most hair stylists, prided herself on being “in the know.”
“Owen and I are exploring a relationship.” Lindsay chose her words carefully, not wanting to lie, but definitely not ready to share everything. “Where it ends up, time will tell.”
“You’re good together.” Marigold shifted her gaze to Owen and Cade.
As if sensing his wife’s gaze, Cade turned and a slow smile lifted his lips.
Marigold blew her husband a kiss.
Cade said something to Owen, and the two men started walking toward them.
When he reached his wife, the sheriff slid his arms around her. “What has you both looking so serious?”
Lindsay sincerely hoped Marigold would not bring up her and Owen’s relationship.
“I told Lindsay they just missed David and Hadley. I forgot to mention Brynn was with them.” Marigold turned to Owen. “It seems like just yesterday that Mindy and Brynn were giggling together at Seedling meetings.”
“They were best friends.” Owen’s lips briefly tipped upward. “In fact, they loved to tell strangers they were sisters.”
“That’s adorable.” Marigold sighed. “I think everyone should have a sister.”
“What made them decide they needed a sister?” Cade’s natural curiosity was only one of the things that made him an effective sheriff.
“When I asked Mindy, she told me a sister is always there for you. A sister sees you at your worst and still loves you.” Owen cleared his throat. “Tessa had left, and contact between her and Mindy had dried up. Brynn was going through pretty much the same with her own mother.”
“Losing a mother tears your heart in two.” Marigold’s eyes held a sheen, and Lindsay knew she was remembering her own mother, who died when Marigold was young. “Even with sisters who love and support you.”
“You were there for Mindy,” Lindsay reminded Owen.
“I made a lot of mistakes.” Owen’s eyes turned troubled. Then he appeared to shake off the melancholy. “But I did my best. Every choice was with her best interests in mind.”
Time to change the subject, Lindsay thought. “Do you think David and Hadley will be giving Brynn a little brother or sister soon?”
“Hadley told me the wedding is the first thing on the agenda. She and David have talked about waiting a little bit, not years or anything, but long enough for the three of them to get used to being a family.” Marigold’s lips curved in a rueful smile. “I won’t be surprised if that resolution quickly falls by the wayside. It seems like everyone in Good Hope is turning up pregnant.”
Except me. Though Marigold didn’t say the words, Lindsay heard them loud and clear.
Lindsay was avoiding Owen’s gaze when Marigold let out a whoop. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
Marigold stuck her hand inside the bag hanging off her shoulder, diving deep.
Owen looked at Cade, who only shook his head.
“Aha.” With a cry of triumph, Marigold pulled her hand from her bag. She turned to Lindsay. “Hold out your hand.”
When Lindsay complied, Marigold pressed the cards into her palm.
Lindsay turned the deck over. “What are these?”
Marigold’s lips curved in a feline smile. “A gift from David and Hadley.”
Cade slanted a glance at Owen. “Have fun with those.”
Owen stared at the deck, clearly puzzled. “Playing cards?”
“Relationship cards.” Marigold’s light tone sent up warning flags. “You and Owen need to each answer three questions.”
Cade cocked his head. “Did we answer three?”
Marigold ignored him. “Those are the rules. Once you’re through with them, you pass them along to another couple.”
“David couldn’t get rid of them fast enough.” Cade offered Owen a pointed glance. “I felt the same.”
“They’re fun,” Marigold insisted.
“Mar-i-gold.” Cade gave her shoulder a squeeze.
His wife’s lips quirked upward. “Okay, total truth. They’re fun unless you’re the one answering the questions.”
Lindsay stared at the deck, then dropped the cards into her bag.
Compared to what she was facing, a few questions would be a piece of cake.
“We did a lot of talking this afternoon.” Lindsay paused outside the door to her apartment. “But you never told me what you think about having a girl.”
On the drive back from Millionaire’s Row, she’d nearly brought up the subject several times, but decided to wait. Being in a vehicle didn’t give her much of an exit strategy should the conversation go south.
When Owen had pulled to a stop in front of her apartment, the question was poised on her lips. Then Owen had flung open his car door and insisted on walking her up
the steps.
After unlocking her front door, she faced him and waited for his response.
Before he could respond, the door to the apartment next to hers opened. Cody Treacher, a smart-mouthed twelve-year-old, barreled out the door toward the steps, his mom in hot pursuit.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” The boy yelled the words over his shoulder. His gaze was on his mother, rather than where he was going.
He hadn’t seen Lindsay standing there. That was the only explanation she could come up with for why the hundred-pound boy barreled toward her at full speed.
Seeing what was happening, Owen shoved himself between her and the kid, absorbing most of the impact. Still, the force had Lindsay stumbling backward. Owen’s arms stopped her fall.
“I’m sorry.” Cody’s mother paused for a moment, then continued after her son, who was already at the bottom of the steps.
“Let’s go inside.” With a supportive arm still around her, Owen pushed open the unlocked door.
Lindsay’s heart beat an erratic rhythm. She wasn’t sure if it was because of nearly being tackled by a preteen or because of Owen’s nearness.
Drawing a shaky breath, Lindsay lifted her face.
Hazel eyes filled with worry locked with hers.
Her breathing hitched.
With fingers that were tender and a bit unsure, Owen brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “You okay?”
All Lindsay could manage was a nod.
His gaze searched her face, and he was silent for a long moment.
She thought he might step back, reassured no harm had been done. Instead, Owen shifted, gathering her close against him. “If he had hurt you, I—”
Lindsay stopped his words with a finger against his lips. “I’m fine.”
He expelled a ragged breath.
“He didn’t hurt me.” Her heart swelled. Without taking a second to consider the ramifications, she kissed him.
When she pulled back, he studied her for several seconds, his steady gaze shooting tingles down her spine. This was the point where a wise woman would take a step back.