She opened her eyes and frowned. “Yeah, I see your point,” she conceded with obvious reluctance. “What about you? Are you going to work today? Or are you going to laze around in my bed all day? Come to think of it, I rather like the idea of daydreaming about that all day long. I’d be highly motivated to get home after school.”
“Unfortunately, I, too, have to work,” he said. “I need to go over the boat to see if there was any damage from the storm. Then I’ll probably take it out for a few hours.”
Alarm flashed in her eyes for just an instant. “Are you sure? Have you checked the weather?”
“Not yet.” He smoothed away the furrow in her brow. “Alice, yesterday was a fluke. I was distracted. I missed all the signs that a storm was approaching. Usually I’m one of the first ones in.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“You were on my mind,” he admitted.
The furrows instantly formed again. “It was my fault you almost got yourself killed?”
“No. It was mine. I know better than to allow myself to get distracted. It won’t happen again.” He gave her a nudge. “Now scoot. I’m not sure I can drag myself out of this bed as long as you’re in here tempting me.”
“I tempt you?” she asked.
“Don’t fish for compliments,” he scolded. “You know you drive me crazy. There are a million and one reasons why you and me being together is a bad idea, and you managed to make me forget every one of them.”
She grinned then. “Good, because you drive me crazy, too.”
He watched her finally slide from the bed, then head for the bathroom, unable to tear his gaze away from her amazing body. No question about it, she’d bewitched him.
Unfortunately, there was also no question that their relationship remained every bit as complicated as it had been before they’d slept together. There were some things that making love—or even falling in love—simply couldn’t change.
Alice felt as if everything in her life was changing and, finally, for the better. She’d spent her whole life dreaming about a man like Patrick Devaney—solid and dependable and amazingly tender, a man in whom to place her trust, whom she could love with her whole heart, with whom she could build a family. Maybe, at long last, she would be able to fill the hole in her heart that had been left when her own family had died.
“You’re certainly glowing this morning,” Loretta Dowd said when she came across Alice in the school office. “Obviously, you found Patrick last night. He made it home safely?”
Alice prayed she wasn’t blushing furiously, though her cheeks felt hot under the woman’s knowing gaze. “He’s fine,” she said. “He rescued Ray Stover. Ray’s boat capsized.”
“Janey will be glad enough of that, I imagine,” the principal said. “She’s been wanting Ray to retire for some time now.” Loretta studied Alice with a knowing look that seemed to zero straight in on her heart. “What about you? Any second thoughts about giving your heart to a fisherman?”
A twinge or two, Alice was forced to admit to herself. Aloud she said, “None at all.”
“Really? I find that surprising. I always thought that was one of the reasons you left Widow’s Cove, because you didn’t want to fall into the trap that so many of your ancestors had fallen into. I thought you viewed the sea as your enemy.”
Alice shuddered at the reminder. “If I’ve learned nothing else in the past few years, it’s that the heart makes its own choices.”
The principal patted her hand. “Indeed it does. I only regret that you came to that wisdom after your parents were gone.”
Alice sighed. “I know. I wish I could have told them and begged their forgiveness for making judgments about their choices.”
“They bore their own share of the guilt,” Loretta reminded her. “They were too hard on you. You were young. You had a right to your choices, as well.”
“I know, but I regret that we didn’t have a second chance to discuss it more rationally. Maybe I could have made them see how happy I was with the choice I’d made.”
“Living with regrets is a waste of time.” Loretta gave Alice a sly look. “Have you had any luck making Patrick see that?”
“None at all,” Alice admitted.
“I thought not. He’s a hard case. It wouldn’t surprise me if he took his anger to the grave.”
Alice regarded her with surprise. “You don’t think there’s any hope for a reconciliation with his family?”
“As long as there’s breath, there’s hope. Keep trying, Alice. I see Patrick’s parents from time to time. There was always something a little lost and sad about them, but it’s been worse since Patrick left. I don’t know the whole story, but it would be a shame if it kept them apart for too long. Mending fences is never easy once pride gets in the way, but without forgiveness, where would any of us be?”
“I know,” Alice said. “I agree.”
“Then do something about it. He’ll listen to you. Once a man’s heart opens to love, it’s more accepting of a lot of things.”
“I don’t know that Patrick loves me.”
The principal gave her another of those too-knowing looks. “If not, then what was last night about, my dear?”
Alice blushed furiously. “How…?”
A surprising twinkle lit the principal’s eyes. “You’re wearing your blouse inside out. It’s not like you, so I suspect you dressed in a rush this morning.”
She grinned at Alice, then strode into her office and firmly shut the door.
Alice stared down at the exposed seams of her blouse and felt as if she might die of embarrassment on the spot. She rushed off to the ladies’ room to remedy the telltale mistake before anyone else noticed and the story made its way around town.
She was still completely off-kilter when the day ended and she made her way to Jess’s, hoping for at least a glimpse of Patrick before she went home.
At three o’clock the bar was quiet and Molly was sitting in a booth in a darkened corner, her expression brooding. Alice slid in opposite her and studied her worriedly.
“Bad day?” she asked when Molly volunteered nothing, not even a halfhearted greeting.
“Bad enough.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She sounded very sure of it, too.
“Sometimes talking helps,” Alice pressed.
“And sometimes it’s just a waste of breath.”
“Now there’s a cynical view.”
“I have a right,” Molly retorted, her tone and her expression unyielding.
“Of course you do, but it’s unlike you. People around here know they can count on you for sound advice and a cheery greeting. You’ll scare them off if you keep the sour look on your face through happy hour.”
Molly feigned a mocking smile. “Will that do?”
“It might fool some, but not most. Talk, Molly.”
“I’ve nothing to say, and if you’re going to keep pestering me, I’ll be forced to head into the kitchen and start dinner preparations.”
“Does that involve sharp knives?”
“Of course.”
“Then maybe you should put it off.”
Molly gave her a wry look. “Very funny.”
“I didn’t mean it to be.”
Molly started to push herself up, then sank back against the cushions of the booth. The effort was so halfhearted, so counter to everything Alice knew about Molly’s usual energy level, that Alice’s alarm grew.
“Dammit, Molly, are you sick?”
Molly’s gaze turned sad. “Not the way you mean.”
“Sick at heart, then?”
She nodded eventually, then cut off all questions by adding firmly, “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It has something to do with Daniel Devaney, though, doesn’t it?”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” Molly repeated, though her voice lacked her usual feistiness.
“Oh, Molly, what did he do to you?” Alice
whispered, reaching for her friend’s hand.
“Nothing Patrick won’t do to you, if you’re not careful,” Molly said.
The sting of the words was so unexpected that Alice felt as if she’d been slapped. Before she could even think of an adequate response, Molly leaned forward.
“I’m very fond of Patrick,” Molly said, her tone filled with urgency. “He’s a wonderful man, and he’s been a good friend to me, but that’s all he’s capable of, Alice. That’s all either of them are capable of, thanks to those god-awful parents of theirs. Neither of them will ever trust anyone enough to let them into their lives.”
Alice refused to believe that was true, at least of Patrick. In fact, she was still convinced that if he could only forgive his parents and make peace with them, his heart would be open to anything. He’d allowed her into his life, hadn’t he? That had to mean something.
“You’re wrong,” she told Molly.
“Am I? What makes you so certain of that? Is it because Patrick slept with you? Because, if you’re counting on that to make a difference, I’m here to tell you that it’s only the first step on the path to heartbreak.”
“You’re wrong,” Alice said again, unwilling to admit how deeply Molly’s words had shaken her. “And it’s cruel of you to project whatever happened to you with Daniel onto my relationship with Patrick.”
“I’m only trying to warn you because I care about you,” Molly said. “And I care about him, as well. Leaving you will hurt him as much as it hurts you, but he’ll do it just the same.”
“I can’t accept that. Keep your warnings to yourself, Molly. I know Patrick. I know what we have together.” If she hadn’t before last night, she did now, and she didn’t intend to let Molly’s dire predictions sway her.
Molly merely gave her a sad smile. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Why would you feel sorry for me?”
“Because I once felt the same about Daniel. I thought I knew who he was and what we shared. It turned out I knew nothing about him at all.”
Alice regretted that she wasn’t Ricky Foster’s age, that she couldn’t clamp her hands over her ears and make nonsense noises to block out Molly’s hurtful words.
“Molly, I’m sorry for whatever Daniel did to you. I really am,” she replied instead. “But it’s got nothing to do with me and Patrick.”
“It has everything to do with him,” Molly insisted. “They’re twins, for goodness’ sakes. Identical twins.”
“That doesn’t mean they see the world exactly alike,” Alice said, still fighting for what she’d found with Patrick the night before. She refused to believe it had been nothing more than an illusion, nothing more than incredible sex with no meaning behind it.
“Do you think because Patrick broke free of his parents after he and Daniel found out about their brothers that he’s somehow more well adjusted than Daniel?” Molly asked.
“No.” The opposite, in fact, though Alice wasn’t ready to admit that, not when Molly was in this odd mood.
“Well, I’m glad you can see that much, at least,” Molly said with evident relief.
“One day he’ll make peace with them,” Alice said.
Molly stared at her. “For a minute, there, I thought there was some hope for you, but now I see that you’re delusional, after all.”
“He will,” Alice insisted.
“And then what? The Devaneys will all live happily ever after?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Molly said flatly. “You’ve been spending too much time with five-year-olds. This isn’t a fairy tale, Alice. It’s real life, and some betrayals are too huge. You’re not going to have some picture-perfect family to make up for the one you lost.”
Once again the sting of the words had the power to take her breath away. For Molly to be so harsh, so unbelievably cruel, her own pain had to be overwhelming. Alice wished she could look Daniel Devaney in the eyes and tell him what a heartless fool he was for whatever he’d done to Molly. She doubted she could fix this, though. Molly was probably right about one thing—some betrayals were too huge.
“I’m so sorry he hurt you so badly,” she told Molly. “One of these days you’ll meet someone else and forget all about Daniel.”
Molly gave her a sad, tired smile. “If only it were that easy,” she said.
Before Alice could respond, Molly visibly pulled herself together and stood up.
“I’m sorry you caught the brunt of my foul mood,” she told Alice. “I’m usually better at keeping it under wraps.”
“Why not today?”
“An anniversary of sorts,” Molly said.
“You can tell me, you know. And I can even manage to hold my tongue, if you’re not anxious for my advice.”
Molly laughed at that. “Now it would almost be worth testing you on that, but I have things to do in the kitchen. If you want to make yourself useful, there’s an inventory checklist for the liquor that I meant to get done this afternoon.”
Alice nodded. “I imagine I can count a few bottles and write the totals down without messing up. Jess always left that to me, because you were too easily distracted.”
Molly chuckled. “He did at that. I’d forgotten. Your parents would have had a fit had they known that my grandfather was letting you near the whiskey and teaching you to play poker.”
“Which was exactly why I loved coming here so much,” Alice told her. “I think I already had a well-developed rebellious streak, even in grade school.”
“You did, indeed,” Molly concurred. “That’s why it’s such a wonder that they’re letting you teach at that very school. Now, get busy, before Patrick wanders in and distracts you all over again.”
Alice watched her friend go into the kitchen, then sighed. She would give anything to ease Molly’s pain, but how could she, when Molly wouldn’t even reveal what the problem was beyond an obviously bitter breakup?
Of course, Patrick probably knew the details, she realized as she found the inventory sheet and began counting the stock behind the bar. And she knew all sorts of clever ways for making him talk. She’d have to put a few of them to good use later tonight.
Chapter Thirteen
Patrick found Alice hunkered down and bent over in a fascinatingly provocative position when he walked into Jess’s. Fortunately the bar was empty, or he’d no doubt have had to bust the chops of a few male patrons eager to get an eyeful of her delectable backside. Since they were alone, he walked up behind her, snagged her around the waist and pulled her against him.
She gasped in surprise, then twisted to face him. “Trying to take advantage of me?” She seemed more intrigued than upset by the possibility.
He grinned. “Looked to me as if you were waiting for me to come along.”
She feigned a scowl. “Hardly. I was doing inventory to help Molly out.”
“Remind me to have you come by the boat and take inventory for me sometime,” he said.
She gave him a look that had his pulse jumping. “I’m almost finished here,” she told him, a deliberate taunt in her voice. “Just what do you have to be inventoried?”
“Oh, I think you’d find it more interesting than this,” he assured her.
“Ask me again after dinner,” she suggested, wriggling free in a way designed to torment him some more. “The special’s herb-roasted chicken. I’ve been smelling it for the past hour, and I’m not leaving here till I’ve had some.”
“Then let me get our order in while you finish up here. Where is Molly, by the way?”
“Hiding in the kitchen,” Alice said, her expression suddenly sobering. “She’s having a bad day, Patrick. Worse than usual. Any idea why?”
Patrick glanced at the calendar on the wall behind the bar, then muttered a curse and shoved into the kitchen without another word to Alice. He trusted her to stay where she was and give him a few minutes alone to offer whatever comfort he could to Molly. He should have remembered the day without a reminder from Alice. He always made it a
point to stick close by when this particular anniversary came around.
When he burst into the kitchen, Molly glanced up from the pot of mashed potatoes she was whipping. Her face was streaked with tears. She swiped at them ineffectively, her movements jerky and impatient.
“Unusual way to salt the potatoes, don’t you think?” he said gently.
“I’m not going to discuss my tears with you,” Molly said, sniffing. “They’ll pass. They always do.”
“Oh, Molly,” Patrick said, drawing her into his arms and letting her renewed flow of tears dampen his shirt as she finally relaxed in his arms. “Sometimes I could string my brother up from the tallest tree in town and flog him.” He felt her mouth curve into a smile against his shoulder. “You like that idea, do you? Just say the word and I’ll do it. You always were a bloodthirsty little thing.”
“Only where Daniel’s concerned,” she said, her voice catching. She pulled back and met his gaze. “It’s been three years. I don’t know why it still catches me off guard like this.”
“It’s been longer than that since I discovered the truth about my folks and left home. The pain of their betrayal still surprises me sometimes. It’s as fresh as if it happened yesterday,” he said. “There’s no timetable on something like this. Your heart will heal when it’s ready.”
“And yours?”
He avoided her gaze. “Mine’s cold as stone.”
“If that’s true, then you shouldn’t be with Alice,” she chided, her expression worried.
Patrick sighed. “You’re probably right, but I can’t walk away from her, Molly. And I don’t want to discuss my relationship with her with you, not till I’ve got it figured out for myself.”
“We’re quite the happy little trio tonight, all of us with our secrets and forbidden topics,” Molly said with a rare touch of bitterness. “They could make a TV soap opera about Widow’s Cove, with our lives as the central plotline.”
“Why not suggest it and make us all rich?” Patrick said. “There should be some benefit to going through the kind of anguish you and I and Alice have been through.”
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