Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series

by Debbie Macomber

  Olivia laughed out loud. It’d been the same whiny song for the last four years. Grace complained constantly about the class but Olivia was convinced that her friend actually enjoyed it. Grace just didn’t know she enjoyed it. However, she was the first to arrive each week and while she might moan through the entire routine, she always admitted she felt better afterward. Not immediately, but as soon as she managed to catch her breath.

  “What’s that goofy grin about?” Grace’s narrowed eyes focused suspiciously on Olivia.

  “You.” Hands on her hips, Olivia laughed again. “You crack me up.”

  “I’m glad you find me so amusing.” Groaning, she raised her bent knee to the bench and untied her tennis shoe. “You’ll be sorry one day when I’m taken away in an Aid Car.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I bought you a piece of coconut cream pie?”

  Grace looked up. “It might. Any reason in particular?”

  Olivia nodded. “I want to ask you something.”

  “Sure.” Grace nodded as she untied the second shoe and kicked it off.

  Her immediate willingness to listen and to help if she could was what made Grace such a good friend. There wasn’t a single thing Olivia couldn’t share with her. That was the reason this conversation would be so difficult and painful. She was afraid her oldest and dearest friend hadn’t been completely honest with her—and she was afraid she knew why.

  A half hour later, they sat in the Pancake Palace with large slices of coconut cream pie and coffee.

  “I hope you realize this defeats the entire purpose of going to aerobics class.” Grace lifted the fork to her mouth and savored the first bite.

  “In certain circumstances, only pie will do,” Olivia said.

  “Is this one of those times?”

  Olivia didn’t answer her. Instead, she launched the topic that had been on her mind all week. “I got a phone call from Will a little while ago.” She studied Grace, hoping to read her reaction to Will’s name.

  Sure enough, Grace instantly dropped her gaze. So it was Will she’d been involved with earlier in the year. A flash of anger, first at Will and then Grace, nearly made her lose her train of thought. Olivia squelched the urge to shake them both.

  “Don’t you want to know what he wanted?” she asked, trying hard to disguise her feelings.

  “Sure.”

  Olivia sighed. “He wants me to have Ben Rhodes investigated.”

  Shocked, Grace raised her eyes. “Ben? Whatever for?”

  “He thinks Ben’s planning to swindle our mother out of her life savings.”

  Grace’s frown revealed her disapproval. “Are you going to do it?”

  Olivia hated to admit she’d caved in, but she couldn’t see any way around it. “I am. I spoke to Roy earlier in the week, although I think it’s a waste of good money.”

  “Olivia!” Grace seemed horrified, which only made Olivia feel worse. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

  She regretted it now, but she’d told Will she’d hire someone to look into Ben’s background and so she had. “My brother made a good case. Ben doesn’t have any family in the area and we really don’t know much about him.” It sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud. “Will convinced me we should do this. He can be persuasive when he wants to be.” Again she watched Grace, studying her reaction.

  All Grace did was shake her head as if she couldn’t believe Olivia would agree to anything so foolish. In retrospect Olivia agreed with her. She wished she’d sat on it a day or two before calling Roy, but it was too late.

  “If Mom ever hears about this, she’ll be outraged,” Olivia said.

  “Yes, she will,” Grace muttered.

  “I told Will how much I like and trust Ben. I can’t imagine him doing anything underhanded.”

  Grace lowered her eyes and sliced energetically into her pie with the side of her fork. Olivia had the impression that her friend was concentrating on the pie in an effort to conceal her reluctance to discuss Will.

  Olivia looked at her carefully. “Seems to me you haven’t asked about Will in a long time,” she said in a deceptively casual voice. “Any reason?”

  “Not really.” Grace’s response was devoid of emotion.

  “He certainly had questions about you.”

  Grace reached for her coffee, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Aren’t you curious about what they were?”

  “Not really.”

  Olivia was tired of waiting for Grace to admit the truth. “It was my brother, wasn’t it?” She was unable to keep the anger out of her voice. She was furious with Will and sick at heart that he’d taken advantage of her best friend—not that Grace was completely innocent in any of this.

  Grace didn’t answer.

  “The least you can do is be honest about it, Grace. You were emotionally involved with my brother.”

  Tears filled Grace’s eyes and she slowly nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Olivia asked. Yet she realized that much of the hurt she felt was due to the fact that Grace hadn’t confided in her. “We’ve always shared everything.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I should have in the beginning, but I didn’t. I don’t know why—no, that’s not true. I do know. You would’ve disapproved and rightly so.”

  “How did it get started?” Will had visited Cedar Cove when their mother had cancer surgery, but to the best of Olivia’s knowledge, Grace and her brother had barely spoken.

  “It was all so innocent in the beginning.” Grace stared down at the table and her voice fell to a whisper. “He wrote me after Dan’s body was discovered to tell me how sorry he was. It was a lovely letter and at the bottom he put his e-mail address. I e-mailed him back to thank him. Then he e-mailed me back, and before I knew it, we were sending each other messages every day.”

  “My brother is married.”

  “Yes, I know that.”

  Clearly, Grace had entered into this relationship with her eyes open. Olivia was well aware that Internet “relationships” were becoming increasingly common, but she was so disappointed that someone she considered sensible and honorable would get caught up in this kind of mess. She felt the same way about Will. He was her brother and she’d always assumed he was a faithful husband, but apparently that had been a false assumption. Well, he’d hear about this.

  “We managed to keep our feelings for each other under control until I spent Thanksgiving with Cliff and his daughter. I couldn’t contact Will and he couldn’t reach me.”

  “Will knew you were with Cliff?”

  “Oh, yes. And when I returned from the East Coast, everything changed. He said he’d missed me and I’d certainly missed talking to him. Once I admitted that, Will started phoning me and before long he’d…declared his love.” She swallowed, and fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “He kept telling me his marriage was miserable and he was getting out.”

  “You believed it because that was what you wanted to hear.”

  Grace nodded, then inhaled sharply. “Will suggested we meet in New Orleans. He sent me the plane ticket and booked us a hotel room. I nearly did it.” She cupped her hand over her mouth as if to hold back a sob. “I nearly slept with a married man.”

  Not since Dan’s disappearance had Olivia seen her friend this broken. “What happened?” she asked in a coaxing whisper.

  “One night after aerobics, you casually mentioned that Will and his wife had booked a cruise. I refused to believe it. Will told me he and Georgia had split up and that he’d filed for divorce.”

  This was even worse than Olivia had guessed, but she bit her tongue to keep from saying so. “Don’t you think I would’ve told you that Will was getting a divorce?”

  “Yes—no, I wasn’t thinking. I was sure you didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “I’d tell you.” This was a subtle reminder that Olivia held nothing back and that she’d been hurt by Grace’s silence—by her lie of omission.


  “Afterward, I was so embarrassed…. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t do it. The worst of it is that I lied to Cliff. He knew right away. He asked me if there was someone else and I told him no and feigned anger that he’d even think such a thing.”

  “How did he figure it out?” Grace had lied to both of them, and Olivia wondered how Cliff had been able to see through it and she hadn’t.

  Grace kept her eyes trained on the tabletop. “His ex-wife had cheated on him for years. He realized what was happening…. I finally admitted I’d met someone on the Internet. I said it had been innocent—to that point—but he wouldn’t believe me. Cliff said he refused to be involved with a woman he couldn’t trust. That’s why he won’t have anything to do with me now—and the truth of it is, I don’t blame him.”

  “How did you find out Will and Georgia were still together?”

  “I called the house. She answered the phone.”

  That must have been a shocking revelation but Olivia didn’t comment. The injured party in all of this was her sister-in-law.

  Grace tried to smile. The effort was futile. “I told Will I never wanted to hear from him again and blocked his e-mail address from my computer. He tried to contact me a number of times, but I immediately deleted any and all messages. I want nothing more to do with him.”

  Grace had paid a high price for her indiscretion. “I’m sorry it was my brother who did this.”

  “I am, too.” Her voice was strangled and filled with selfincrimination. “But I blame myself. Even when we were in high school, I had the biggest crush on Will. Then, when he actually claimed to love me, it was like a fantasy coming true—and I let it happen. If anyone had told me I’d willingly begin a relationship with a married man, I would’ve denied it. And yet that’s exactly what I did.”

  “It could have been worse.”

  “Much worse,” Grace said. “If you hadn’t mentioned Georgia when you did, I would’ve met Will in New Orleans. I would’ve slept with him, too, despite everything I believe. I was head over heels in love with him. Thank God I learned the truth when I did.”

  “Does Cliff know everything?”

  “Not who I was involved with, just that I was.”

  “You went to him, apologized?”

  She nodded. “Twice. But I committed the one sin he can’t forgive. It’s over.”

  Olivia wasn’t so sure. “He could change his mind, you know. Be patient. Give him time.”

  “I don’t think time’s going to make any difference,” Grace confessed with heartfelt regret. “If I needed proof of that, I got it a couple of weeks ago.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I ran into Cliff at The Lighthouse. We talked for a few minutes and then the hostess came to seat us, assuming we were together. He made it abundantly clear that he’d rather dine alone than share a meal with me. I got the message. If he ever felt anything for me, it’s dead.” Tears trailed down her cheeks as she struggled with her composure.

  Olivia reached across the table to clasp her friend’s hand. She had some thinking to do—and the person to discuss her thoughts with was her husband.

  Later that same night, dressed in her pajamas, Olivia sat on the queen-size bed, arms folded around her knees as she relayed the story to Jack.

  “I can’t get over the fact that all along it was my own brother.” It was still a shock.

  Jack frowned as if he too had trouble believing what she’d told him. “How’s Grace doing?”

  “She’s brokenhearted. Cliff doesn’t want to see her anymore.”

  Jack tossed his jacket onto the chair beside the bed.

  Olivia pointed at it, silently reminding him to hang it in the closet. For a moment, Jack glanced at the jacket and then at her. Sighing, he grabbed it and found a hanger.

  “What do you think?” he asked, turning from the closet.

  “About Cliff?” She had to consider that for a moment. “I don’t know, but I’m sure he sincerely loved Grace at one time. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who voluntarily turns his feelings on and off.”

  “Then there’s hope.”

  Jack sat down on the bed as he pulled off his shoes. With a proud grin, he lined them up neatly. Shoes were actually supposed to go in the downstairs hall closet, but Olivia didn’t comment. “Remember that Grace played a big role in getting the two of us back together,” he said.

  “I know.”

  Jack slid his arms around her and tugged her closer to the edge of the bed. “Do you also remember how we met up the same day at the same movie? Accidentally on purpose?”

  “Oh, yeah, that.” She laughed at the memory. Their problem, in Grace’s opinion, was that they were both too stubborn for their own good.

  “I think we owe Grace Sherman a favor.”

  This perked Olivia up. “Exactly what are you suggesting?”

  He was quiet a minute or so. “That benefit for the animal shelter is coming up in July, isn’t it?”

  “The Dog and Bachelor Auction?”

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Just remember where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “Oh, Jack! What a terrible pun.” She rolled her eyes. “The fact that there’s a Will is exactly what got in the way.” Giggling, she nudged him in the shoulder. Only Jack could make her laugh about something so distressing.

  He nudged her in return and they smiled at each other.

  Then she shook her head. “Cliff isn’t one of the bachelors. Grace said he turned them down.”

  “Did he really? Maybe he needs encouragement. The right kind of encouragement.”

  “Jack? What are you thinking?”

  Eyebrows raised, her husband stayed quiet.

  “Jack?”

  With a move so fast he left her breathless, Jack swept her into his arms and Olivia fell against him. “Have I mentioned lately that you ask far too many questions?”

  “Not lately,” she said and giggled again.

  He kissed her, and soon neither one of them had a single question to ask.

  Sixteen

  With the television on in the family room, Peggy sat working the counted cross-stitch pattern. Bob was out for the evening; he had his regular AA meeting at six and following that, he was off to the community theater to read for a part in the latest musical production. The theater had decided to put on Chicago.

  Peggy spent almost every Thursday night alone and had grown accustomed to having this time to herself. Two of her favorite television shows aired on Thursdays and she could count on not being interrupted.

  She yawned and covered her mouth with one hand. It’d been one of those days. The rain had started early that morning and hadn’t let up all day. Not a rarity for mid-June, but Peggy had hoped to work in her garden. The rain had been a mixed blessing, though, because she’d been inside when the phone rang that afternoon. It was Hannah Russell.

  Apparently Roy McAfee had called her with a number of questions and she hadn’t heard back from him. Hannah wondered if there was any news. Peggy hadn’t known what to tell her. Unfortunately she didn’t have any information for her, either, but it was unlikely that she would. The investigation into Maxwell Russell’s death was out of her hands.

  Hannah had sounded anxious, and Peggy had tried to reassure her. She wanted to help the young woman, but wasn’t sure how. The motherly part of her longed to gather Hannah in her arms and tell her everything would be all right. The girl was hurting, wandering aimlessly to escape her pain. That wouldn’t help, because wherever Hannah settled, the anguish would follow. Clichéd though it was, Peggy knew from experience that time really was the great healer.

  Determined to finish the cross-stitch pattern of hummingbirds in flight so she could complete another one before Christmas, Peggy glanced down at the page and paused to rub her eyes. Either the manufacturers were making smaller patterns every year or she needed new glasses. She preferred to blame the people who printed the patterns. This cross-stitch was for her daught
er and she wanted to complete one for her son, Marc, as well. Although maybe she’d better choose another pattern for Marc’s…The oceanscape she’d bought might be a little too complicated.

  The back door opened and she looked up. It was early for Bob to be home. “Is that you, sweetheart?”

  “Are you expecting some other man?” he teased.

  “Not tonight. The naked dancing men are scheduled to arrive on Friday.”

  “Very funny.” He stayed in the kitchen. “Any of that fried chicken left?”

  “I thought you’d decided not to eat at night anymore.”

  “I did.”

  “Then why are you asking about the chicken?”

  “Because I’m a weak man and I’m hungry.”

  She smiled. “Third shelf down on the left-hand side.”

  “You’re gonna have to do something about this refrigerator,” Bob complained. “I can’t find a thing to eat in here.”

  This was a routine complaint. The refrigerator was stuffed with food, but her husband continually claimed there was nothing to eat. Peggy didn’t bother to respond.

  Munching on a chicken leg, he joined her in the family room off the kitchen.

  “It’s getting nasty out there.”

  Peggy could hear the rain pounding against the bay windows in the breakfast nook. “My garden could use it.”

  “The grass is going to grow and then I’ll have to cut it again,” he muttered. “I swear it’s a vicious cycle.”

  Concentrating on her needlepoint, Peggy smiled. This, too, was one of his regular lamentations.

  A branch struck the window and the wind howled. It reminded her of the night Maxwell Russell had appeared at the door, asking for a room. A chill slithered down her arms. That night was one she’d prefer to forget.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” Bob asked.

  “Yes, thanks.”

  The wind howled again and Peggy’s eyes met Bob’s. He didn’t need to say anything; she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. That rainy night…

  “Decaf?” Bob called from the kitchen.

  “Please.” She set her cross-stitch aside and stood, raising her arms in a stretch. “How was the meeting?”