“Oh, Hannah, I’m so sorry.”
“I am, too…. Mom wasn’t supposed to be in the car with him that day. But he was so angry and unreasonable and he demanded that she go with him and then he had the accident—and Mom was killed.” Weeping openly now, she covered her face with both hands.
Peggy came out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Hannah’s shoulders, murmuring soft, meaningless words of comfort.
“If only Mom hadn’t gone that day, she’d be alive now.”
“I know, I know,” Peggy said.
“Dad was hurt so badly in the fire and Mom…didn’t have a chance. I wanted to die then, too…but the accident changed Dad.”
“In what way?”
Hannah lifted her head and rubbed the sleeve of her robe over her eyes. “He was calmer, less angry afterward.”
“So he was easier to deal with?”
Hannah nodded. “I think Mom’s death was what did it. He was lost without her. He went through so much pain, you know, and all the surgery, and…and for the first time in my life, I felt I had a father. He talked to me and called me his little girl and said he loved me. And then…and then he was murdered.” She sniffled once.
Peggy could imagine what life had been like for Hannah. Until his accident, Maxwell Russell was a harsh, bitter man who often took his anger out on his wife and daughter. It was little wonder that Hannah vacillated between grief and guilt over the death of her father.
Thirty
Grace checked her watch for the third time in two minutes and used a deep-breathing method to calm her pounding heart. Cliff would be joining her at The Lighthouse any moment now and she was as nervous as if she were fifteen again, going out with a boy for the first time.
Tonight was their dinner date, the one Jack and Olivia, Charlotte, Maryellen, Jon, Kelly and Paul had bought at the Dog and Bachelor Auction. Her friends and family had forked out a whopping eight hundred dollars to arrange this, and Grace was determined to enjoy it. If only she could calm her nerves.
She smiled as she thought of Justine’s equally expensive new dog, a golden retriever like her own Buttercup. According to Olivia, the whole family adored Sadie.
And speaking of Olivia…Grace had arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early in order to escape her best friend.
Olivia had spent half the afternoon with her, discussing every detail of Grace’s outfit, hair and makeup. Anyone might think Grace was entering a beauty pageant or attending the Academy Awards! Olivia’s interest was well-intentioned, but Grace had reached her limit, so she’d left the house early and gone straight to the restaurant.
When Cliff did appear, it was all Grace could do not to jump up from her chair. Swallowing suddenly became difficult. Cliff saw her then and walked across the room, his steps slow and measured, as if he felt resigned to this evening but not pleased.
With a stiff smile, she extended her hand to him in a rather formal greeting. “Thank you for being my dinner date,” she said, hoping her words were intelligible.
“I should be the one thanking you,” he said as he pulled out his chair. “It’s good for my ego.” He paused, apparently reconsidering his comment. “Now that I think about it, wasn’t it Olivia who placed the bid?”
Grace nodded. No one had paid more for a bachelor; Cliff should feel flattered by that. “Justine and Seth love the dog, and apparently Leif’s quite taken with her, too.”
Cliff smiled at the mention of the dog. She smiled back, more naturally this time. Cliff couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, which made her heart beat faster. Cliff looked more attractive than ever, and she gazed at him avidly. She saw him so seldom these days and when she did, it was a painful reminder of what might have been.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice low.
This wasn’t a casual question; she sensed that the moment the words left his lips. He wanted the truth.
“Lonely.”
Cliff lowered his eyes, although she’d noticed the worried expression he tried to hide.
His silence unsettled her, so she hurried to fill it. “I have a kitten now.” She offered this information eagerly, not just to appease his concern about her loneliness but because she knew he’d be interested. “I got him at the Farmers’ Market a month ago. I was doing one of my volunteer stints, and he was the last one left. I named him Sherlock because he’s constantly digging into things.”
Cliff grinned boyishly and his worried look fled. “What does Buttercup think of him?”
“Actually she’s happy to have the company. The two of them sleep together. I have pictures.” She reached for her purse and pulled out several photos of her animals, as well as her grandchildren.
“Sherlock,” Cliff murmured as he studied the first photograph. “The name suits him.”
“I thought so, too,” Grace said. “The others are of Tyler and Katie. I refuse to let you escape without updating you on my grandchildren.”
His grin deepened. “I just happened to bring a picture of April.” He slid one hand into his inside pocket and brought out a photograph.
The waitress came for their drink order, and Cliff suggested a bottle of Washington State Chardonnay. Grace nodded at his choice.
She stared at the picture of Cliff’s daughter and granddaughter. She’d met Lisa last Thanksgiving, when they’d flown to Maryland to be with his family. Cliff and his daughter were especially close.
After exchanging photographs, Grace looked at him. “And you?” she asked. “How are you, Cliff?”
“Busy.” He didn’t respond seriously the way she had; his reply was flippant.
She dropped her eyes in an effort to recover. In one word, he’d let her know she wasn’t allowed access to his world anymore. Despite his earlier sincerity, that brief glimpse of caring and concern, this dinner wasn’t going to change anything. Olivia and her daughters might as well have saved their money.
Grace’s spirits plummeted.
The waitress returned with their wine, uncorked it and poured a sample for Cliff to approve. After the tasting ritual and the pouring, she took their dinner order.
“I’m off to Texas to buy a horse next week,” Cliff said as if it was now his turn to fill the ensuing silence. “I hope so, anyway. I’ve had my eye on a particular quarter horse stud for quite some time.” He continued talking about the qualities that made this horse important to him. Most of what he said was beyond Grace’s slim knowledge of breeding and horses, but she listened attentively.
“Well, I hope your trip is successful,” she said when he’d finished.
Silence again. Their whole evening seemed destined to crawl from one awkward silence to another.
“I feel I can leave the ranch now that I have Cal,” he added.
“How is Cal?” she asked. Their conversations never used to be stilted like this. They always had a million things to say to each other, sharing pieces of their lives. Except for what she hadn’t shared—her Internet romance with Will Jefferson. Would she never be forgiven for that?
Cliff started to chuckle, and she glanced up.
“What?” Grace smiled, too, although she didn’t know why.
“The Dog and Bachelor Auction,” he said. “Do you remember that Corrie McAfee bid on him for her daughter?”
“Oh—yes.” She’d found it difficult to keep track of which bachelor had gone to whom, although she’d received personal satisfaction from Stan Lockhart’s fate. She noticed he hadn’t been around town as much lately and in Grace’s opinion, that was a good thing.
“Did you read in the paper that thanks to Charlotte and Ben, the town’s worked out a deal with Puget Sound Medical and Dental to set up a clinic?”
“Speaking of Ben…” Grace closed her mouth.
“What about him?”
She shook her head, angry with herself. “Nothing…It’s just that Olivia is worried about her mother and Ben.”
“Why?”
“Well, no one ever heard of him until recently
.”
“No one had ever heard of me, either,” Cliff reminded her.
“But you aren’t dating a judge’s mother. In her line of work, Olivia has reason to be suspicious—but I’m sure nothing will turn up.”
Cliff picked up his water glass. “Nothing will turn up where?”
In her uneasiness, Grace had already said more than she’d intended. “Forget I said that.” She hoped he’d simply put this conversation out of his mind.
No such luck. “Olivia’s having a background check done on Ben?” he asked bluntly.
Grace felt dreadful, but she couldn’t lie to Cliff again. “Yes. Please don’t say anything.”
“You think I’d tell Charlotte this?”
That made her feel even worse, since Charlotte and Cliff were friends. “No…Cliff, please, I should never have said anything.”
He hesitated, then agreed with a shrug. “All right.”
“I heard Linnette McAfee’s been hired to work at the clinic.” It was an obvious change of topic, but he accepted it readily enough and she sighed with relief.
“That’s what I understand.”
“Since Linnette’s moving to town, maybe she’ll have a chance to get to know Cal.” She gestured vaguely. “More than she could on just a dinner date.”
“Cal’s a good man,” Cliff said casually. “I think getting out more will do him a world of good.”
“I like him,” Grace said although her contact with Cliff’s trainer had been limited to a few short conversations. His shyness and stuttering made communication difficult. Instinctively, she wanted to finish his sentences, to spare him the embarrassment of stammering. But on honest reflection, she supposed her impulse to help had as much to do with her own discomfort as with any perceptions of his.
“He likes you, too.”
Instantly Grace’s heart lightened.
The waitress approached the table with their first course, shrimp bisque for Grace and Caesar salad for Cliff.
“How are Maryellen and Jon?” he asked as he set down his wineglass.
“Happy and deeply in love.” In that instant, Grace wished she could withdraw the words. Talking about love was painful; under different circumstances, those words could have referred to them. “They hope to have another child,” she said after a pause.
“What about Kelly and Paul?”
Grace sighed. “Kelly still isn’t pregnant and she’s starting to get worried.”
“I’m sure there’s no cause for concern.”
Grace agreed, and they lapsed into silence again.
The waitress returned to collect their first-course dishes and bring their entrées. She also refilled their wine. Grace took her first taste of sole topped with a creamy shrimp sauce, and Cliff cut into his prime rib. They both made enthusiastic noises about the excellence of the food.
By the time they’d finished their meals, Grace accepted that nothing she said or did had the power to reach Cliff. So she stopped trying. There seemed little point in more small talk about the town or doings at the library or plans for his ranch; that left them with nothing much to say.
After dinner, Grace drove home, even more lonely and depressed. It was hard not to weep and to berate herself—and humbling to admit she’d failed yet again. Olivia and the girls had paid that money for one reason and one reason only. They’d hoped, as Grace had, that Cliff would have a change of heart. He hadn’t.
The phone rang at eight o’clock on Saturday morning. Grace was feeding her animals. Automatically she scooped up the receiver and held it to her ear while she doled out the dog and cat food.
“Well?” Olivia demanded. “How’d it go?”
Grace resisted the urge to break into tears. “We had a very nice dinner, but that’s it.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Olivia,” Grace said with an exaggerated sigh. “I was there. I might as well have had dinner with a statue.” She switched the phone to her other ear. “The closest I got to seeing the old Cliff was when he showed me a picture of Lisa and her little girl.”
“Give him time.”
“No.” Grace was surprised by the strength of her conviction. “I’m not going to grovel. I made a mistake. I’m sorry. If Cliff Harding can’t get past that, then it’s his problem, not mine.”
Olivia was silent for a long moment. “Grace is that really you?” she finally asked.
“Of course it’s me.”
“You sound so…emotionally healthy.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“I do,” Olivia assured her.
Obviously Cliff had chosen to get on with his life—minus Grace. She would let him and at the same time get on with hers.
With a renewed sense of vigor, she weeded and watered her small garden.
At noon, a florist’s delivery van parked outside her house. Pulling off her garden gloves, Grace walked around front, wondering if the driver had mistaken the address.
“Ms. Grace Sherman?” The deliveryman held a beautiful bouquet of roses, carnations and irises in a variety of pastel shades.
“Yes.” Grace vaguely recognized the young man but couldn’t remember his name.
“These are for you.” He handed her the vase, turned and left.
Grace carried the arrangement into the house and removed the card. As she read the message, tears clouded her eyes. Life has a funny way of hitting you between the eyes, doesn’t it? Thank you for dinner. Cliff.
She didn’t know what he meant but she felt this must be a good sign.
Thirty-One
Ben pushed the grocery cart down the produce aisle while Charlotte sorted through the celery. The grocer tended to put the older bunches in front.
“Do you want me to pick up a few bananas?” Ben asked.
“Please.” Bananas were the perfect fruit for people their age, in Charlotte’s view.
Ben added a small bunch to their cart. He was so helpful in so many ways. Clyde hadn’t been the kind of husband who enjoyed shopping, but Ben was more than patient about doing errands. He seemed to enjoy spending time with her. If she had a hair appointment, he drove her there and either waited in the salon or strolled through the mall. After all these years on her own, such open affection—such romantic gestures—were foreign to her. When she was with Ben she felt…treasured. True, his attention had taken a bit of adjustment on her part, since she was so used to her own company. Charlotte slowly pushed the cart ahead, watching as Ben struck up a conversation with the produce manager.
“Charlotte!”
Hearing her name, Charlotte turned to find her son-in-law strolling toward her, wearing a big grin.
“Don’t tell me Olivia’s got you doing the shopping,” Charlotte said.
Jack chuckled and shook his head. “I came to pick up a few things she refuses to buy. Whoever heard of a house without potato chips and pretzels? Olivia said if I was going to eat fat-laden carbohydrates, I’d have to buy them myself. So here I am.” He looked over his shoulder, as if he half expected his wife to follow him inside and criticize his food choices. “I don’t suppose you know where they keep the microwave popcorn, do you?”
“Aisle five,” Charlotte said. “I like the extra-butter kind myself.”
“I’m with you,” Jack muttered. “I don’t know what it is with Olivia these days.”
“How do you mean?”
“First she’s on this low-fat kick. Okay, I admit I could lose a few pounds, but I looked like this when she married me and it was good enough for her then.”
Charlotte knew her daughter’s fitness plan had caused arguments between them, but she’d assumed things were better now. Olivia hadn’t complained in weeks.
“Then there’s this thing with Ben,” he added, scowling. “It’s ridiculous.”
Charlotte stared at him, certain she’d misunderstood. “What thing with Ben?” she demanded. Thankfully Ben was still busy talking.
Jack looked like a man who’d inadvertently stumbled into
a swampful of alligators. “Ah…that was a slip of the tongue. Forget it.”
“I most certainly will not forget it,” Charlotte slammed a bunch of celery into her cart. “You’d better tell me everything.”
“Ah…” Jack faltered. “I, uh…” Finally he gave a resigned sigh. “Olivia’s having Roy do a background check on him,” he said grimly.
“What?” Charlotte felt her blood pressure rise.
“Charlotte?” Ben asked, joining her. He looked at Jack. “Is there a problem?”
“None whatsoever,” Charlotte snapped. She smiled at Ben, who’d been nothing but a gentleman from the moment they met. Now her own daughter had gone behind her back and was having the man she loved investigated. Evidently Olivia had no faith in her intelligence or her judgment. Anyone who spent time with Ben would know he was the gentlest, sweetest, most wonderful man on earth. Olivia had met him many times. How could she do this? Why? The outrage turned to pain and her eyes filled with tears.
“I…I can’t believe Olivia would do something like this,” she said, trying to hide the hurt her daughter had caused her. Sniffling, she turned away.
Ben was at her side immediately. He slid his arm around her protectively. “What’s going on here, Charlotte?”
Charlotte shouldn’t have done it, but she told him. “Olivia’s having you investigated. I don’t know why she’d do such a thing, but apparently she has. Jack just let it slip….”
Ben’s mouth thinned with irritation. “Rest assured there’s nothing to find.”
“Damn my big mouth,” Jack muttered. “It isn’t all Olivia, you know.”
“What do you mean by that?” Charlotte was rigid with anger now.
“Maybe I should just pay for these potato chips and be on my way,” Jack suggested, obviously uncomfortable.
“Like hell!”
Ben’s eyes widened. Charlotte was not a woman who used that kind of language. In fact, she was shocked herself. But there were times when nothing less than a swearword would do. “You tell me the whole story and I mean now, Jack Griffin.”
Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Olivia’s going to kill me for this.”
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