“No. We only went out once and it was…not a success. Neither of us is ready for another relationship.”
“Well, then.” Zach smiled. “Are you game for dinner?”
“Dad!” Allison groaned. “You’ve got to be more romantic than that. Ask Mom again and this time do it right.”
With a mock-serious expression, Zach bowed. “Rosie, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me on Thursday evening?”
“She can’t,” Eddie answered. “That’s Scouting night.”
“Right,” Zach muttered.
“Take Mom out tonight,” Allison urged. “I’ll cook dinner for me and Eddie. You two talk. Okay?”
Rosie looked at Zach and he looked at her. A slow grin came over his face as he extended his hand. With barely a pause, she placed her own hand in his.
Twenty-Four
Grace sat with her morning cup of coffee. It was early Saturday, and the kitchen light caused shadows to flicker across the wall, heightening the impression of a dark and gloomy day. More than three weeks had gone by since she’d taken Buttercup to the vet. More than three weeks since she’d seen Cliff.
The dog was only now beginning to recover from cancer. Fortunately, all the tumors had been successfully removed. For a while, her prognosis had been poor and Grace had worried endlessly that she would lose her faithful companion. If Buttercup had died, Grace would’ve been to blame, and she would have had a hard time forgiving herself. Cliff had warned her that Buttercup didn’t look well; she’d ignored him, just as she’d ignored everything else these last few months during her obsession with Will.
In retrospect, Grace saw how easily she’d fallen into this. It made her ill to think how low she’d sunk in her Internet relationship with Will Jefferson. She berated herself for being swayed by his compliments and his admiration. In truth, though, it hadn’t been as one-sided as that. She knew he’d derived comfort and gratification from Grace’s feelings for him; his marriage was in trouble—that much she believed—and he’d used her to salvage his ego, to bask in another woman’s adoration. Caught in this web of mutual fascination, Grace had ignored one very important fact: Will Jefferson was a married man.
Her face burned with humiliation. Will had purchased her plane ticket to New Orleans, and she knew very well that he’d only booked one hotel room. She also knew what would’ve happened when she joined him.
Adding to her humiliation was the memory of how angry she’d been with Stan, Olivia’s ex-husband, when they’d learned that he’d moved in with Marge. The divorce wasn’t even final and already he was sleeping with another woman, involved in an affair. Grace realized now that she was no better than Stan. No better than the men she’d reviled for being unfaithful.
Cliff had guessed what she’d been doing and had ended their relationship. She’d been such a fool. No one had ever treated her better or showed her as much love and consideration as Cliff Harding.
Maybe her problem was that Cliff was simply too good. Something inside her rejected his genuine warmth and love. Was it because she felt unworthy? All Grace knew was that she’d done the very thing she’d promised Cliff’s daughter she’d never do, and that was hurt Cliff.
She prayed it wasn’t too late. She spent at least an hour gathering her courage to visit Cliff. She’d considered phoning ahead, then decided against it. If he wasn’t at the ranch house, she’d just return another time.
She had to face him, had to confess. She wanted Cliff to understand how sincerely sorry she was. Although she didn’t deserve his forgiveness, she needed it.
Grace dressed carefully. She chose a jeans jumper and blouse Cliff especially liked. As she got ready to leave the house, Buttercup lifted her head from her pillowed dog bed and watched her every move. Maybe it was a fanciful thought, but she felt as if her golden retriever knew Grace was going to see Cliff. Knew and approved. While friendly, Buttercup was a discerning dog and wasn’t prone to accepting strangers, but she’d loved Cliff from the very first.
“I’ll be sure to tell Cliff you’re feeling better,” she said, bending over to stroke her dog’s silky ears. She’d given Buttercup lots of attention during the last few weeks, pampering her in an effort to make up for the neglect.
By the time she walked outside, it’d started to drizzle. Typical March weather. The windshield wipers made lazy swishes as Grace drove the twenty minutes to Olalla and Cliff’s ranch.
Although Grace had often visited his ranch, she hadn’t been there in at least six months. Turning into his long driveway she was immediately surprised by the number of apparent changes. A dozen horses grazed in the pasture, far more than she recalled from her last visit. A freshly painted white fence bordered the drive; it made for a striking entrance to the ranch. A large two-story red barn had replaced the smaller one.
When she pulled into the yard and parked near the barn, a man she didn’t recognize walked out. Raising the hood of her raincoat, she left her car.
“Hello,” she said, smiling. “I’m Grace Sherman. Is Cliff available?”
The dark-haired man hesitated, then nodded. “C-Cal Washburn,” he said with a slight stutter. He was attractive—solid and squarely built, with an aura of competence. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, but it was always difficult for Grace to judge age. His eyes, an intense shade of blue, seemed to look straight through her. It made Grace wonder if Cliff had mentioned her name—and whether or not Cal was going to answer her question.
The front door opened and Cliff stepped out.
“Cliff!” Grace hurried across the yard. Cliff moved aside and held the door for her.
“I hope you don’t mind my coming by like this,” she said. The warmth in the house enveloped her.
“Of course I don’t mind.” Cliff took her coat from her shoulders and hung it in the foyer.
Grace rubbed her arms. “It’s colder than I expected.”
“Why don’t I get us a cup of coffee,” Cliff suggested.
This was going well and Grace began to relax. She followed him into the kitchen, noting improvements in the house as well as the yard.
“How long has Cal been around?” she asked.
“Couple months now,” Cliff said as he stood in front of the cupboard and selected two mugs. He seemed pleased to see her, cordial and polite, but…reserved. She had the impression that her visit had prompted mixed feelings. Which was only natural under the circumstances, she acknowledged.
Cliff poured them each a cup and set hers on the kitchen counter. Grace slipped onto a stool, while he stood across from her, on the other side of the counter.
“How’s Buttercup?” he asked.
“Much better. I was terrified when they discovered the tumors. For a while, I thought I might lose her.”
Cliff nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s on the mend.”
“You and me both.”
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Cliff didn’t make any effort to fill it, so Grace forged ahead. “I know my visit must be something of a surprise,” she said. She gestured around. “You’ve done a lot of work since I was last here.”
“Yes,” he murmured. But he offered no further comment.
Grace stared down at her coffee, wishing she’d thought about what she wanted to say. She stared out the window at the expansive structure. “When did you build the barn?”
“The contractor started construction the beginning of December.”
“I didn’t realize you intended to make such major improvements to the property.”
Now it was Cliff who stared down at his coffee. “I mentioned a new barn a couple of times.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right, you did.” Of course he’d talked about it. She had a vague recollection of it. Anytime they were together she’d been preoccupied, wondering when she could get back home and onto the computer. Grace could only guess how much else she’d missed.
“I mentioned hiring Cal, too.”
“I do remember that.” What she recalled wa
s Cliff’s saying he might hire a full-time trainer. She’d obviously been mentally absent during subsequent conversations.
He glanced at his watch—an unmistakable signal that her time was almost up.
“I came because I wanted to apologize, Cliff,” she said quickly. This was difficult. Painful. Embarrassing. But she had to do it. “You were right—I was involved with someone else.”
His eyes narrowed. “Married?”
Her face was flushed as she nodded. “He lives out of state—we only spoke online.”
Cliff sipped his coffee and didn’t comment.
She nodded again. “It’s over. Thank God I came to my senses before…before anything happened.” She didn’t mention how close it had been. Or that it was only by chance she’d learned the truth about Will. If it hadn’t been for Olivia, Grace would have sunk deeper and deeper until she’d been completely swallowed up in the deception. She blinked back tears as she thought about the people she’d deceived—Cliff, first of all, and Georgia. Olivia. Her own daughters. Herself…
“I misled you,” Grace murmured, struggling with remorse. “You’ve been nothing but kind, and I abused that. Oh, Cliff, can you ever forgive me?”
“Of course I can,” he said without emotion. After a moment, he added, “But, unfortunately, I can’t undo the past.”
Grace didn’t understand what he was telling her. “I realize that.”
“Do you?” he asked, looking doubtful. He set his coffee mug in the sink, standing there for a moment with his back to her.
“Explain it to me.”
Cliff turned to face her. “I think I told you this before. I know what it’s like to be betrayed. I recognized the signs.”
She hung her head, aware she’d hurt him badly. With everything in her, she wanted to erase the pain she’d caused him.
“Susan had quite a few affairs over the years,” he continued. “It was a sickness with her, I think. At first I wondered if there was something missing in me, something I wasn’t giving her. She was constantly seeking admiration and approval from men. The only way she seemed capable of getting what she needed was through these affairs. Yet she repeatedly told me how much she loved me.”
He smiled then, and it was the saddest smile Grace had ever seen.
“The irony is that I believe Susan did love me. For most of our marriage I looked the other way and tried to pretend her indiscretions didn’t matter, but I was wrong. They mattered a lot. I held on to the marriage for Lisa’s sake. Then before I knew it, my daughter was grown-up, and all at once I realized I was trapped in a relationship that was nothing more than a pretence.”
Grace knew how painful it was for Cliff to discuss the details of his marriage. She also knew what that felt like. Her own marriage had been difficult. For years she’d believed it was something lacking in her that had brought on Dan’s dark moods. Only after his death did she learn she wasn’t to blame, although she’d accepted responsibility for Dan’s unhappiness. Cliff’s situation had been quite different, but Grace identified with his emotions.
“I was hoping the two of us could start over again,” she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She so badly wanted to put this behind them and pick up where they’d left off.
He stared at her for the longest moment of her life and then reluctantly looked away. In that movement she read his answer.
“I can’t,” Cliff said in a voice so low Grace had to strain to hear him.
“But…” She wanted to argue, but even before she could get the words out she knew it would do no good. His mind was made up and nothing she said or did now would change that.
“I can’t go back, Grace. I lived that life once.”
“But I wouldn’t—I was faithful to Dan for thirty-four years. I’m not anything like Susan.”
Cliff crossed his arms. He was shutting her out, she thought. He’d rather be anyplace except with her. Still, she held her ground, unwilling to give up on them so easily.
“I’m not saying you’re like Susan,” he told her. “I’m simply saying I can’t deal with the feelings I associate with her. The last time I saw you, it was as though every doubt, every negative emotion from my marriage, came flying at me. I don’t want to live like that. I can’t. I don’t want to deal with those emotions anymore.” Lowering his head, he murmured, “For a while I believed we had something special.”
“We did,” she said. And she’d ruined it.
“Perhaps,” he agreed quietly, “but I don’t feel that way now.” His expression was full of regret. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to see each other again. I’m sorry, Grace.”
Her heart felt as though it had leaped to her throat and was pounding its way out. Rather than risk speaking and having her voice crack, Grace nodded. She finished her coffee, then slipped off the kitchen stool.
“I guess this is goodbye.” That was all she could manage.
Cliff nodded.
With only pride holding her together, Grace left the kitchen.
Cliff accompanied her into the foyer and retrieved her coat. He held it for her and she blindly shoved her arms into the sleeves.
Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her in his arms. As if he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her. A final kiss. His mouth was moist and warm as it covered hers.
Grace came into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him as she gave herself to the kiss. She sensed his hunger, his desire—and his regret. All too soon, long before she was ready, he pulled away.
He refused to meet her eyes. “Goodbye,” he said, and opened the door for her.
Twenty-Five
“Are your eyes closed?” Olivia asked, peeking around the sliding glass door that led to the deck of Jack’s rental house. Sitting in his hot tub, in plain view of the entire world, was an uncomfortable prospect for Olivia. Jack, however, had refused to take no for an answer.
A misty fog surrounded the hot tub where he sat impatiently waiting for her. It was a cloudy evening, the second Sunday in March. “My eyes are closed,” he assured her, grinning from ear to ear.
Even from this distance, she could tell he was lying. “Jack Griffin, your eyes are wide open.”
“Olivia, I’ve seen a woman in a bathing suit before.”
“But you haven’t seen me!”
“No, and I’m dying to, so hurry up.”
The patio light was far too bright, she decided. Grumbling under her breath, she tucked the towel more tightly around her and stepped barefoot onto the deck. Although it faced the cove and not the road, Olivia was sure the entire neighborhood would be catching a glimpse of her.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d donned a swimsuit. This very one, in fact. Years and years ago. James had still been living at home. Justine, too. Her swimsuit was sadly outdated, but luckily it wasn’t the kind of material that attracted moths.
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to drop that towel,” Jack told her as she took her first tentative steps outside. He leaned back in a relaxed pose, arms spread out across the back of the tub.
“If I see a picture of myself in The Chronicle, I swear I’ll never forgive you.”
“Hmm, you’re giving me ideas.” Jack chuckled as if an embarrassing photograph was indeed a possibility.
“Jack!” Reluctantly she lowered the towel. Feeling as graceful as a walrus, she climbed over the edge of the hot tub and slid into the water. It was warm, soothing and refreshing at the same time. “Ah,” she sighed involuntarily.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he asked.
Olivia moved next to him, sinking shoulder-deep into the bubbling water. Rather than respond, she sighed again, a sigh of pure contentment. She was oh, so glad Jack had urged her to set aside her inhibitions and join him.
“You know, you’ve got a very attractive body,” he said. “I don’t know why you insist on hiding it.”
Olivia shook her head. “Do you know how old I am?”
“Yes—and what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Plenty. I’ve had children, Jack, and my body is far from perfect.”
“Hey, if I wanted to date a twenty-year-old model—” He gave a quick laugh. “Hell, a twenty-year-old model wouldn’t be seen dead with an old fart like me.”
Olivia smiled, too. “We make a good couple, don’t we?” She rested her head against his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “We do, Judge O. Especially when we’re practically naked in a hot tub together.”
“Jack!” She giggled. She was enjoying herself but refused to give him credit; if she did, she’d never hear the end of it.
“Come on,” he said, “tell me I was right.”
“Would you mind gloating silently?” she muttered, letting her eyes drift shut.
“How’s Grace doing?” Jack suddenly asked.
Olivia groaned. She’d been deeply concerned for her friend. “Better, I think.” Grace had come to Olivia last Saturday afternoon, as upset as Olivia had ever seen her. Despite several attempts, Olivia wasn’t able to pry the entire story out of her, but apparently Grace had done something to offend Cliff and he’d decided it would be best if they no longer saw each other.
“Have you talked to her recently?” Jack said.
“I saw her Wednesday night. Why?”
Jack rested his chin on top of Olivia’s head. “I think she might be volunteering for the Humane Society.”
“Oh, yes, she did say something about that.” Olivia approved; Grace seemed to have a lot of time on her hands all at once. She’d always been fond of animals. Buttercup had brought her comfort and companionship when Grace had most needed it. This volunteer position was something she could do to help animals, and perhaps a human or two. Olivia also suspected that Grace saw it as a way of making up for not getting Buttercup to the vet more quickly, not noticing the symptoms sooner. She tried to reassure her friend, but Grace persisted in blaming herself, which Olivia thought unreasonable.
“How’d you know about Grace volunteering?” she asked.
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