At Legend's End (The Teacup Novellas - Book Four)

by Diane Moody

  “He’s writing a book,” she whispered in awe. She chanced another peek to make sure he wasn’t returning, and thumbed through the handwritten notes and dates and diagrams that filled the leather journal. At first, she was delighted at the discovery. She remembered the night after the book club when she’d told him he should write. He’d scoffed away her suggestion. He’d also brushed off any talk of the legend as nothing but a bunch of silly coincidences. He gave the impression he’d never given it any credence, and yet here was proof that he found it worthy of personal research.

  Hearing sirens in the distance, she looked up just in time as he reached for the door handle. With no time to pop the journal back in the glove compartment, she shoved it under her purse on the floor beside her feet.

  Trevor rubbed his hands together and blew on them, obviously chilled to the bone. “A semi jackknifed ahead, but there’s just enough room on the shoulder to get past all the damaged cars. Otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

  “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No.”

  Olivia waited for more, but there was none. He never turned to look at her. Never asked if she was okay. He snapped his seatbelt and started the engine again, then slowly began inching along until the SUV moved out of the road and onto the shoulder. As they followed other vehicles, Olivia got her first look at the long semi sprawled on its side across both northbound lanes of the interstate. Several vehicles behind it were bent and smashed like so many toy cars accordioned together.

  Once around the wreck, Olivia looked back at the flashing red lights of first responders, their sirens a symphony of discord. Turning back toward the front, she made no attempt to engage him in conversation. His insulting tirade still sparked through her veins like a jolt of electricity. She looked out her passenger window and decided to keep silent. It felt ridiculously childish, but she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  They drove in silence until exiting the interstate onto State Road 9. It gave Olivia time to think. Too much time to think. Part of her wanted to thank God for opening her eyes before it was too late‌—‌whatever that might mean. She’d been a fool not to take Ellen’s concerns more seriously. She knew Ellen had probably spent a lot of time on her knees praying since their last conversation.

  Is that why all this happened? Are You answering Ellen’s prayers by letting me see this obnoxious, belligerent side of Trevor?

  The thought of it grieved her.

  A tear slipped down her cheek. She let it fall, not willing for him to see her wipe it away. Instead, she forced her attention back out the side window, noticing his reflection in the glass. She hadn’t seen it before. And much to her surprise, he turned briefly to look at her.

  Real brave, Trevor. You wait for me to turn my back before giving me so much as a glance? She watched him through the reflection as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, slowly shaking his head. Well then. That’s that.

  As they turned the last corner then pulled onto the graveled lot at the MacVicar, Olivia reached for her purse then looked him in the eye. “Goodbye, Trevor.”

  “Olivia, wait‌—‍” He grabbed her elbow as she opened her door. “Please. There’s something I need to say.”

  She eyed his hand on her arm. “I think you’ve said quite enough.”

  “This isn’t at all how I wanted this day to end.”

  “No? Well, I guess that’s good to know. But at this point, I’d say it’s a little late. Now, if you don’t mind‌—‍”

  “Please, Olivia, I’m begging you.”

  She pulled free and started to get out.

  “Wait. You forgot something.”

  She turned just as he picked up the journal from her floorboard. He started to hand it to her, then froze. His eyes tracked slowly to hers.

  “I . . . I was looking for a tissue and found some in your glove compartment. Then I found that and‌—‍”

  “You read my journal?”

  “But I didn’t know it was your journal. I didn’t know what it was. And I guess I was just curious, so I opened it and‌—‌Trevor, why didn’t you tell me you’re writing a book?”

  The nerve along his jaw line twitched, and his eyes returned to the journal. “Is there some law that says I have to tell you everything?”

  Olivia felt as if she’d been slapped. She stepped out of the SUV, slammed the door, and never looked back.

  Chapter 17

  Back in her room, Olivia turned off her cell phone. She doubted Trevor would try to call, but she couldn’t risk a call from Ellen. Not now. Ellen would never flaunt an “I-told-you-so,” but she’d know something was wrong. Olivia needed time to process. After a long hot bath, she climbed into bed and turned out the light. Her pulse quickened with every memory of the past couple of hours, fueling a tangled web of things she wished she’d said, things she knew she’d have to say at some point, and things she desperately needed her heart to hear. She lay there for more than an hour, unable to fight the emotions battling within her until she finally fell asleep on her tear-stained pillow.

  The next morning, Trig seemed to understand her need for a quiet breakfast. Over a hot bowl of oatmeal dusted with brown sugar and a medley of dried fruits and slivered almonds, Olivia tried to pray away the throbbing pain in her head. The possibility of packing her bags and heading back to Atlanta kept eating at her, but something inside her heart told her to stay. She’d never run away from problems before. She wasn’t about to start now. Still, the chance of running into Trevor caused the pain in her head to tighten like a vise.

  Don’t be such a drama queen. You’re not in high school. He’s not your “boyfriend.” Stop acting so juvenile and do what you came here to do. You have a new future to plan, so do it.

  The thought made her acutely aware of how much she’d lost her way since coming to Caden Cove. How easily she’d been distracted by Trevor’s attention. After all these years, she knew better. Yes, it was flattering and wonderful and exhilarating to be pursued. But at her age, she should know better. And deep inside, she did. She’d stopped yearning for romance years ago. If it happened, fine. If it didn’t, that was fine too. In her heart of hearts, she knew if God had someone for her, it surely wouldn’t be this much trouble.

  Still . . .

  Sipping hot coffee, she vowed to get back on track and start making the decisions she came here to make. But first, she’d have to get rid of her headache. A quick run to Molly’s for some Advil, then she could get down to business. She thanked Trig for breakfast then headed to her room to get her coat and purse.

  And prayed she wouldn’t run into the local bookseller.

  Ten minutes later, Molly rang up her bottle of Advil on the register.

  “Must be something in the air today. Just sold one of these to Trevor.” She pinned Olivia with a stare.

  “Really?” Olivia winced at the croak in her voice. She cleared her throat. “Well, I hope he feels better soon.”

  Molly closed the register, her eyes still on Olivia. “It’s probably none of my business, but‍—‍”

  “Then thank you for understanding.” Olivia closed her purse and turned to go. “I’ll see you later.”

  Molly grabbed Olivia’s wrist and held it. “I need a break. Come sit with me. Coffee’s on the house.”

  “I’d love to, Molly, but I really need‌—‍”

  “It can wait. We need to talk. Have a seat,” she said, pointing at the barstool by the counter.

  Olivia sighed, then made her way to the counter.

  Molly poured two cups of coffee, stirred cream into both, then slid one across the counter to Olivia. “I take it the trip to Boston didn’t go so well?”

  “Why? Did he say something?”

  “Didn’t have to. I’ve known Trevor long enough to read him like a book‌—‌if you’ll pardon the pun. He doesn’t have to say a word. The last week or so, he’s been all but giddy. Comes floating through my store, sings my name out like he’s on stage at the opera, laughs at the sillie
st things. Today? He stomps in here like the old grump he used to be. No eye contact. Not so much as a hello or how are you. Just slaps his Advil on the counter with the exact change and off he goes.

  “It isn’t my business‌—‌even though I like to think I’m the heartbeat of our little town.” Molly smiled. “Mostly, I’m just a mother hen. I’m elated when my friends are happy, and I hurt when my friends are hurting.”

  Something in Olivia shifted. “Molly. I’m sorry. I’m disappointed, but to be honest, I’m glad yesterday happened. I let myself get carried away. That hasn’t happened in years. But I think I was starry-eyed about the idea of us, not the reality of us. Life’s hard enough without all that complication, you know?”

  “Did he lose his temper with you? Snap at you like you’re a two-year-old?”

  “And then some.” Olivia nodded with a sad smile.

  “Olivia, much as I’d like to, I can’t tell you what to do. But I will say this. Trevor’s always been set in his ways‌—‍”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “He can be a real pain at times. But oh, my dear Olivia. The change I’ve seen in him since he met you? Well, even an old romantic like me can see there’s something special between the two of you. I’ve prayed for Trevor for as long as I’ve known him. I’ve prayed that God would tear down those walls around his heart and give him a chance at happiness. And I have to say, until you came along, I’d all but given up on him.”

  Olivia traced the ridge of her coffee mug but said nothing.

  “Do me a favor. And you don’t have to answer out loud. But ask yourself. Whatever happened yesterday, was it unforgiveable? Was it truly a game-changer, as they say? Or was it something minor or trivial? I guess what I’m asking you to consider is whether you’ve found in Trevor someone worth fighting for?”

  The questions struck somewhere in the vicinity of Olivia’s heart. Twenty-four hours ago she would have said yes. In a heartbeat. She’d fallen in love with him. He was the first man she’d allowed herself to fall in love with in twenty years. She’d seen the good in him and adored the time they’d spent together. He was fascinating and funny and kindhearted . . .

  But was it enough? Could a few days of companionship and laughter and endless conversations be enough to shove aside all vestiges of the ill-tempered bookseller she’d first met a couple of weeks ago?

  No. She’d be an idiot to think the Old Trevor would never surface again.

  Maybe it was all just window-dressing. Maybe he’d merely put on a good show for her, looking for a little harmless fun until she left town.

  No. That wasn’t it either.

  She dropped her head in her hands. “Oh Molly, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Then here’s what I suggest. Give yourself all the time you need to think about it. Sort through your feelings. And most important, get on your knees and find out what God would have you do. I’ll be praying for you. And I’ll be praying for Trevor as well. Then let’s just see what happens. Fair enough?”

  Olivia raised her head, pushing her hair off her forehead. She tried to smile. “Fair enough.” She reached across the counter for Molly’s hand. “Thank you.”

  On her way back to the inn, she had the sudden urge to get out of town. At least for a couple of hours to find some place to think and pray. Deciding to make the short drive to Kennebunkport, she walked back to the inn, got in her rental car, and took off.

  And reminded herself to keep an eye out for black ice.

  Trevor closed the shop for an early lunch. With Charlie riding co-pilot, he headed home hoping to clear his mind. His headache wasn’t quite as severe, but still an irritation.

  But then, what doesn’t irritate me these days?

  He raked his fingers through his hair, shaking off the thought. Once at home, he gave Charlie a treat which she sniffed a couple of times, then ignored. Following her into his study, he studied her waddle, assessing her added girth.

  “What’s the matter, girl? Not feeling well?”

  Charlie’s tail took a couple of slow wags before she plodded toward her crate.

  “I know the feeling.”

  He wasn’t hungry, opting instead for a nap on the sofa in his study. He watched Charlie circle inside her crate before settling down on her blanket with a hearty sigh.

  “Oh, Charlie. What have I done?”

  She raised an eyelid, then slowly closed it.

  “Precisely.”

  Trevor draped his arm across his face and let his mind wander. He hadn’t slept well last night and wondered if Olivia had the same problem. Had she stayed up kicking herself for having feelings for him in the first place? Had she regretted the time they’d spent together? Did she hate him for his despicable behavior last night?

  Probably not half as much as I hate myself for it.

  Over his second cup of coffee before leaving the house earlier that morning, he’d had an alarming thought‌—‌what if she’d left? What if she’d packed her bags and gone home? Driving by the MacVicar a few minutes later, palpable relief washed over him at the sight of her rental car. And yet, had the car been gone, he couldn’t have blamed her.

  Now, rolling to his side on the sofa, he tried to figure out why he’d been so ugly to her. She’d brought nothing but joy into his life. For the first time in years, he understood how it felt to love someone. Being with Olivia had knocked down all his defenses. And much to his surprise, he loved how that felt.

  And how had he repaid her? By snapping at her. By berating her for a perfectly natural reaction. By speaking to her with such condescension as if she hadn’t a brain in her head.

  “Oh God, what have I done?”

  The question echoed through his mind. Trevor wasn’t even sure how to pray. It seemed somehow hypocritical. To be such a stubborn Neanderthal, then ask God for forgiveness? God surely knew he was a lost cause. But even as the thought still drifted through his mind, he knew it wasn’t true.

  Do it.

  What?

  With his eyes still closed, he shook his head, dismissing the thought. Nonsense. I must be in that strange place between awake and asleep. If I could just get some sleep . . .

  Do it!

  His eyes flashed opened, and this time he knew. Without a second thought, he slipped off the sofa and onto his knees, finally surrendering to the conviction that coursed through his veins with utter abandon.

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry . . .”

  Chapter 18

  Olivia took a final sip of tea then pushed her plate aside. With a tinge of sadness, she realized this would probably be her last visit to Kennebunkport. Midday, after wandering the streets of the famous little town’s tourist area, she’d found the cozy pub all but deserted which suited her fine. Seated by a window, she watched the docked sailboats bobbing on the bay’s chilly water. There was something peaceful and soothing about the scene; the perfect backdrop for some serious soul-searching.

  She couldn’t figure out why everything had happened. She wondered why God had let her come up here in the first place. But she was past that now, resigned to make a fresh start.

  Again.

  Somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  It made sense to go home to Atlanta. She would officially resign from her job, then try to stay off the radar from everyone for a while. She needed time to sort it all out without interference. Without all the drama. Without letting her heart get sidetracked . . . She would hunker down and shut out the world until she could come up with a plan, a strategy for the rest of her life.

  Why oh why did I waste all this time in Caden Cove? Clearly a mistake, and one I will not make again.

  With a start , Olivia realized she’d left her cell phone back at the inn. She remembered turning it off before she went to bed, and obviously forgot it when she left that morning. I don’t even want to guess how many times Ellen has called. Still, she knew her friend would be worried and didn’t want to cause her alarm. She gathered her things, paid he
r bill, and headed back to Caden Cove, praying one last desperate prayer for guidance as she drove.

  Give me a sign, Lord.

  The sun was setting as she walked up the steps of the MacVicar. After such a late lunch, she planned to skip dinner and stay in for the night. She opened the door, surprised to find Michelle seated at the front desk.

  “Hi, Olivia. Have you had a nice day?”

  “Yes, thanks. I drove over to Kennebunkport for the day.”

  “Sounds fun. Oh, by the way, you had a delivery while you were out.”

  “Me?”

  A mischievous grin played across her face. “Trig put them in your room since he wasn’t sure he’d see you.”

  “Put ‘them’ in my room?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I will?”

  Michelle’s face beamed. “Trust me.”

  Olivia headed up the stairs, in no mood for surprises. Opening the door to her room, she gasped. A sea of roses‌—‌on the tables, on the fireplace mantel, on the desk, on the floor here and there. Dozens of roses in every color.

  “What in the world?”

  She pulled the card from the nearest arrangement, stopping first to inhale the sweet scent of its pale pink petals. Tugging the card from its envelope, she read the brief note.

  My dear Olivia,

  I’m such a fool.

  One more chance.

  That’s all I ask.

  Trevor

  She made her way around the room, reading each handwritten card.

  Can you ever forgive me?

  Whatever it takes.

  A second chance.

  Please . . .

  You were right—

  I was an absolute buffoon.

  If it takes a lifetime, I’ll make it up to you.

  Olivia, please say yes to us.

  If for no other reason . . .

  Charlie needs you.

  Something between a sob and laugh broke the silence. “Charlie needs me? Now you’re just playing dirty, mister.” She dashed away her tears before reading the final card.