His Saving Grace

by Janice Carter

  “Thanks for your input,” she said as she headed for the door.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SLEEPING IN WAS a luxury Drew hadn’t enjoyed in many years. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, its blotchy surface a puzzle at first until he remembered he was at the hotel in Lighthouse Cove and not his apartment in Portland. Perhaps waking at nine didn’t count as a sleep-in if you didn’t actually get to sleep until well after midnight. He almost wished he could attribute his grogginess to a hangover, but no. One beer and a platter of soggy nachos accounted for his rumbling stomach but not for the cloud in his head.

  He simply didn’t understand Grace Winters. He’d intended the invite as a friendly gesture—a way to ease the impact of her inevitable disappointment. They could talk freely over a drink and perhaps discuss options for her memorial idea. If he’d known she’d get up and walk out, he’d have had the talk at the bookstore. And his humiliation didn’t arise from the curious heads turned his way or at the frown on the waiter’s face when he appeared at that exact moment to ask if everything was okay. What do you think? Drew had been tempted to ask.

  No. It was how she’d reacted. Except for the instant flush of red and the hint of an emotional struggle in her face, she’d kept her cool. She’d managed to put him in a place he hadn’t been since his training days. Her “thanks for your input” was the clincher. As if he were some kind of consultant rather than the person making the decisions.

  He sat up, rubbed his face and contemplated the day ahead. Although he’d booked a second night, he realized there probably was no point in staying. Any contact with her would best be made by email, that safety net for people who hate face-to-face confrontation. It had been his default mode of communication for a while, especially since the tragedy that had propelled him into a desk job.

  Drew sighed. He hadn’t thought about that day in ages and hadn’t awakened in a cold sweat from tormenting dreams in weeks. As the therapist he’d been ordered to visit had said, grief is a long process. His immediate response at the time had been to protest that the family of the man he’d failed to save—his wife and children—would know all too well about that. But eventually he’d accepted that grief and guilt were sometimes linked, merging almost amorphously so that one was indistinguishable from the other. Yet there were days and nights when reality struck like a punch to the gut and he knew he’d never be able to put that judgment call behind him. He’d never really forget.

  He stood, still unsure about his next steps but knowing movement was the best antidote to bad memories and difficult decisions. By the time he’d shaved, showered and dressed it was past midmorning. His appetite had bounced back and he was ready to tackle the day in all its brightness and potential. Just what the doctor ordered, he was thinking, as he made his way across the hotel lobby to the front door and a hearty breakfast at Mabel’s Diner.

  A tall attractive woman heading his way stopped to say, “Good morning,” and then added, “Are you enjoying your stay at our hotel?”

  “Um, yes, thank you,” Drew noticed the small badge on her dress. Suzanna Winters, Manager. Grace’s cousin and sister of the boy who drowned? He wondered what she thought about Grace’s plan to restore the tower as a memorial to her brother.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “And if there’s anything you need help with, please feel free to contact me. I’m usually in the office behind the reception desk.” She gestured to the far side of the lobby. “And of course, there’s always someone at the counter, too.”

  When she frowned suddenly Drew glanced across the lobby. The same young woman from his check-in yesterday was on duty, her head bent over her cell phone. Some trouble there? Drew wondered. Maybe the summer help wasn’t working out. “Sure, thanks.”

  He was about to walk on when she added, “Will you be staying with us long?”

  “I leave tomorrow.”

  “Ah, too bad. There are some lovely sights in the Cove, as well as possible day trips from here to Portland and other smaller places. Have you seen the Portland Head Light in Cape Elizabeth? It’s an iconic lighthouse here in Maine.”

  “I have seen it and you’re right, it’s unforgettable. And you have a lighthouse here, too.”

  Her smile disappeared. “Yes, we do, but it’s not very accessible to tourists.” After a brief pause, she added, “Well, enjoy your day,” and headed to the reception counter.

  Enjoy my day. I dearly hope to, but the odds are against me right now, Drew was thinking. After breakfast he’d stop in at that antiques store he’d seen yesterday and then consider his options. Leaving early was at the top of his list but only after seeing Grace Winters one more time. Why that was suddenly important, Drew couldn’t explain. Perhaps he wanted to show that her melodramatic exit last night hadn’t bothered him at all. Or perhaps he simply didn’t want to leave town on such a negative note.

  The diner had few customers midmorning and there were plenty of tables. Drew automatically aimed for the one he’d been sitting at the day before. He preferred facing outward whenever he ate alone so he could indulge a favorite pastime of people-watching. Besides, he figured sitting the other way would imply a desire for isolation that wasn’t in his character. He wasn’t an extrovert, but he liked people and being around people. He was finally moving on from his self-imposed solitary life last year. His therapist would approve of that at least.

  He’d just ordered eggs Benedict and was sipping his coffee when the diner door opened and Grace Winters stepped inside, paused briefly, spotted him and walked his way. Drew suddenly lost his appetite.

  “May I?” she asked as she pulled out the chair opposite his and sat down before he could set his coffee mug onto the table.

  It occurred to Drew that unless Mabel’s was the only diner in town, he and Grace must be on the same wavelength, turning up at the same time in the same place two days in a row. If their last meeting had been more amicable, he’d have made a lame joke like “we can’t keep meeting like this.”

  “I was at the corner down the street when I saw you come inside,” she began. “I’m sorry to interrupt your—” she stared at the empty table space in front of him “—breakfast? But I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

  Drew tilted his head slightly, as if he didn’t know what she was referring to.

  “I was taken aback and disappointed. Unfortunately, I often let my emotions get the best of me.” She uttered a small laugh. “My family has been pointing that out to me since I was little.”

  He felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy for her.

  “Last night I had time to...uh...reflect on what you said—or tried to say.” She took an audible breath, glancing briefly at the wall behind him. “Before I interrupted. Walking out like that—” she briefly bit down on her lower lip and then continued “—was very childish and unfair to you. I didn’t even think to leave any money for my share.”

  Her eyes met his and something in Drew thawed ever so slightly. He had to put her out of her misery. “Look,” he said before she could continue. “I understand how important your project is for you and for Henry, too. I get it. Families don’t recover from tragedies like that.” He had to stop, his mind flooded again with the memory of last year. The waiter showed up with his order, giving him a few seconds to focus on something else.

  “Can I get you anything?” the waiter was asking Grace.

  “A coffee please, with milk.”

  She looked at Drew, her expression slightly puzzled. Had she noted the change in his face just then?

  “Please,” she prompted, “go ahead and eat. Their eggs Benedict are delicious and should be devoured immediately. With gusto!” she added, her voice pitching.

  He tucked in, but kept his eyes fixed on hers, waiting to hear the real purpose of her dropping by.

  After her coffee was delivered, Grace said, “Henry and I thought maybe you’d be interested in seeing mo
re of the town and hearing its history before you leave.”

  Drew swallowed his mouthful of egg and ham.

  She held up a palm before he could get a word out. “Don’t take this as another pitch for the lighthouse or an excuse to reopen the debate. Just that it would be a shame for you to leave a place you’ll probably never return to without really seeing it. Do you know what I mean?”

  He did, but he also believed the invite was another pitch. Albeit a last-ditch one. Still, he was interested and as she said, it was highly unlikely he’d be coming back. “Okay, that would be nice.”

  “That’s great! Can you drop by the store in about an hour? I’ll let Henry know.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your breakfast.” She started to leave but turned quickly around, her smile a gift after yesterday’s meeting. “Oops, almost forgot.”

  She was digging around in her purse when Drew realized what she was doing. “Please. The coffee’s on me and...um... I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Her “thank you” was breathless and happy. Drew watched her walk out the door before picking up his fork. For some reason, he wasn’t as hungry as he had been. In fact, the faint gnawing in his stomach was from dread about disappointing her again.

  * * *

  HENRY WAS WAITING outside Novel Thinking. Grace had called him first thing in the morning with her idea. Maybe if Drew Spencer saw the whole town and heard some of its stories he’d understand the importance of the lighthouse to the community. “Can’t hurt,” Henry had said but his tone was skeptical.

  “Well?” he asked as she arrived at the door.

  He could have gone inside, Grace knew, because he still had a key, but she also knew he’d never take liberties, not even as the former owner. “Sorry to have kept you so long but when I got to the hotel, I found out from the receptionist that he’d already left. Then I happened to see him go into Mabel’s so thought I’d catch him there.”

  Henry chuckled. “You mean corner him there.”

  Grace’s laugh was slightly embarrassed. “Well, it’s true he had little chance of escape. Anyway, he’s interested. Are you still up for playing tour guide?”

  “I’ll stick it out as long as my hip allows.”

  She had a twinge of guilt then. Knowing Henry would do almost anything for her wasn’t really playing fair when she also knew he had mobility issues.

  “But not to worry.” He smiled, patting her forearm as she unlocked the door. “I’ll lead him right back to you when I’ve had enough.”

  As she unlocked the door, Grace was glad that Henry couldn’t see her expression. So far, her success at communicating with Drew Spencer was at zero and she doubted she could improve that score. She seemed to self-destruct every time she tried to counter his reasons for a teardown. She had a habit of overreacting but knew there was something more afoot. Maybe some doubt about the project itself? No, she wouldn’t go there. She’d already spent far too many sleepless nights over it. Last night’s restlessness was solely due to her childish behavior at the pub. Her reaction was not only embarrassing but excessive, given the circumstances. The idea of a tour of the Cove came to her about daybreak. She knew instinctively this might be her one and only chance to persuade him to reconsider.

  “Okay,” she replied as she tucked the closed sign behind the door and walked ahead to flick on lights. Official opening time was ten, but she’d delayed today by going to find Drew. Hopefully any disappointed customers would return.

  Henry headed for the reading area and eased into an armchair. “Tell me again where you think I should take him?”

  Grace sighed inwardly. His hip wasn’t the only thing failing Henry these days. “Basically, a short tour of the town center, the square—”

  “The statue of old Hiram?” Henry’s eyes twinkled.

  “Can’t miss it I guess.” Grace had often been teased by schoolmates about the bronze tribute to her great-grandfather, a lobster pot at his feet and his eyes fixed on a distant horizon. It had been commissioned by her grandfather. “Were you able to contact anybody from the Historical Society?”

  “Leonard Maguire says he can spare some time before lunch. And Betty Anderson from the Information Center has a break at two.”

  “That’s sounding like a full day. He’ll be here sometime after eleven. What time do you think Leonard would be available?”

  “I arranged to meet him around noon at the Society’s office in Town Hall.”

  In the past all fifteen members of the Cove’s Historical Society had met monthly in the town’s elementary school for lack of a community center or library, but soon other community groups had competed for evening space with the Society, which recently had negotiated a temporary room in the town hall. Grace’s mother was a member of the Society, though she rarely attended meetings anymore due to Charles’s health problems. Just as well, Grace figured, because she didn’t want to reveal her restoration idea to her family until it was approved.

  Henry settled in with the latest copy of The Beacon and Grace busied herself setting up the store for the day while waiting for Drew.

  “Say,” Henry called from his armchair, “don’t you and the family have a meeting with your father’s specialist today?”

  Grace looked up from the computer. “Yes, but not till four.”

  “In Portland, right? Want me to take over here for you?”

  “I thought I’d close early.”

  “Gracie, don’t do that unless you absolutely have to. You shut the store down yesterday while we met with Drew and opened late this morning. Customers are going to think your hours are unreliable. They’ll stop coming.”

  Grace flushed. “I know it’s not a good idea, Henry, but this is important. Drew Spencer is only here for a day or two and I have to convince him my plan is a good one. Once he leaves, the whole thing will be forgotten. Anyway, this is the only bookstore in town.”

  “But plenty in Portland, a short drive away.”

  “I know.” She sighed. Henry was right but there was too much at stake. She had only hours to change the man’s mind and she had a feeling that Drew Spencer was the kind of man whose mind resisted changing. “All right. If you’re finished showing him around by three, then yes, please come and take over for me.”

  “Good. You know, I had an idea, too. Not sure if it would work out but...”

  Grace glanced up from logging in to the computer. “What idea?”

  “Did he say he lives in Portland as well as working there?”

  “I...um... I can’t remember. Maybe.”

  “If he were to spend a few more days here, he’d need a place to stay. It’s the holiday weekend and the hotel might be fully booked.”

  “And?” She called up the store’s accounting program while keeping an eye on the time.

  “Just that I’ve got a specialist appointment myself on Tuesday in Portland and I’d been thinking of spending a couple more days there, see my sister. Her health hasn’t been good lately and I think she’d like some company.”

  “Uh-huh.” Grace’s fingers worked at the keyboard, checking yesterday’s receipts.

  “Well, if we can persuade Drew to extend his visit, he could use my place. I was going to take Felix with me, but I could leave him behind. It’d be a reason to offer my cottage if he wouldn’t mind cat-sitting for a day or two.”

  Grace raised her head and smiled. “A very good reason, Henry.”

  “Think that might be a plan, then?” He winked.

  “I do, Henry.” She laughed. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  The tinkle of the front doorbell caught their attention.

  * * *

  THEY WERE PARTWAY up Porter when Drew remembered he ought to slow down. Henry couldn’t keep pace, especially once the street started its climb up to the center of town. He’d felt surprisingly let do
wn that Grace hadn’t joined them, though he realized his expectation had been a tad unrealistic. She did have a business to run and possibly her budget didn’t extend to hiring part-time help.

  When he arrived, Drew gathered from their furtive glances that they’d been discussing either the tour or him. Probably both, he concluded, since the obvious purpose of showing him the town was to persuade him to change his mind. For some reason the idea that they’d been talking about him rankled. Since he’d begun this survey a month ago, he’d had a couple of confrontations with volunteer keepers, usually around upkeep or funding. Lighthouses were expensive to maintain and he doubted Grace Winters had considered that aspect of her project.

  While he waited at the next corner for Henry to catch up, Drew wondered why he was spending so much time thinking about a woman he’d known less than forty-eight hours. He couldn’t even rationalize his preoccupation as attraction because she wasn’t his type at all. Tall blondes with outgoing personalities had always been the draw for him.

  A flash of Emily tumbled into his mind and Drew sighed. Thoughts of his ex-fiancée seldom arose anymore. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when that part of his life ended—sometime in the weeks after the botched sea rescue—but he did remember the morning when he woke up and realized she wasn’t ever coming back. The moment was memorable only because he realized at the same time that he didn’t actually care.

  “Sorry, Henry,” he said as the older man came closer. “I was lost in thought and forgot I was with someone else.”

  Henry waved a dismissive hand. “Happens to us all.” He took a deep breath and pointed to his right. “The main square is that way and we’re meeting the chair of the Lighthouse Cove Historical Society, which is located in our town hall, at twelve.”

  “A historical society? Great.” Drew checked his watch. “In half an hour then? We might have some time to kill.”

  “Maybe. If so, we can always grab a coffee. There seems to be plenty of those places around these days.”