“Linnette,” he began.
“You’d better tell me what’s going on between you and Vicki Newman,” she snapped, without giving him a chance to greet her. At this stage, Linnette was long past exchanging pleasantries.
“Y-you know?”
“About Vicki, you mean?” She didn’t let him respond. “I thought you’d…I hoped we could speak honestly with each other. I think we owe each other that, don’t you?”
“I’m-m-m s-sorry.”
“You should be!”
“Linnette, stop.” His voice took on a strength and conviction that startled her.
“Stop?”
“I apologize.”
She sighed. “All right then, you’re forgiven.” Perhaps she’d blown everything out of proportion. Grace hadn’t talked to him personally and it seemed that Cal had already regained his sanity. Relief settled over her, easing the tension between her shoulder blades. The throbbing headache that had started to pound began to subside.
“I love Vicki.”
Linnette gasped. She refused to believe it. Cal wasn’t making any sense. “You just said you were sorry. You—”
“I volunteered to travel to Wyoming to rescue the mustangs because it’s important to me, yes, b-but also because I needed to get away and think. I needed to get away from you.”
He was telling her he’d purposely left to escape her. “What?”
“I appreciate everything, I truly d-do.” He paused as if to control his tendency to rush the words. “I wanted to talk to you. I tried, but I c-couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t do well with words. I thought once I was here, I’d write to you. But when I arrived, a letter seemed so…callous.”
“And this isn’t?”
“I’d give anything not to hurt you,” he said in a low voice.
It was too late for that. Pain swirled through her, cutting off her breath, undermining even her ability to stand upright. Sinking into a chair, she clutched the phone with one hand and held the other against her forehead.
“There’s nothing physical between Vicki and me,” he said. “I haven’t even kissed her.”
“And you believe you’re in love with her?”
“I know I am.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, thinking fast. “You need to examine everything, Cal. Your feelings and reactions. The two of you are out there alone, and it makes sense that you might be attracted to her, but that’ll all change when you’re back home.”
“No,” he stated flatly. “It won’t change.”
She noticed how controlled his voice was, as if he knew exactly what he planned to say and had rehearsed it any number of times.
“I’m coming back to Cedar Cove. I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Thank God,” she breathed. Once he got back, he’d realize what a mistake he was making.
“My feelings for Vicki aren’t going to change, Linnette,” he insisted. “I intend to ask her to be my wife.”
Thirty-Four
Grace arrived at the Pancake Palace three minutes ahead of Olivia for their weekly splurge of pie and coffee. They’d both earned it after an hour’s worth of aerobic exercise. If it was just up to Grace, she’d skip the workout and go straight for the pie. Olivia wouldn’t hear of that, however, and was determined that Grace join her for class. Although she complained, Grace actually looked forward to exercising with her best friend. The bonus was that Wednesday evenings were also their time to catch up on each other’s news.
Grace slid into the booth by the window and Goldie, the crusty, retirement-age waitress, immediately brought over a pot of decaffeinated coffee. Grace turned over the ceramic mug—a ritual at the Pancake Palace.
“Olivia’s right behind me,” she said. Reaching for Olivia’s cup, she righted it.
“You girls want the usual?” Goldie asked as she filled both mugs.
Grace nodded. She’d been friends with Olivia so long that she felt she could speak for her. They’d met in first grade and been best friends all through school. Although they were both in their fifties, and into their second marriages, they remained as close now as when they were girls. They’d come here, to this very same restaurant, for sodas after class. The Pancake Palace was a venerable Cedar Cove institution, and Goldie had been there since Grace and Olivia really were girls.
“Why don’t you live a little?” Goldie suggested. “Go for the big-time. I’ve got apple pan dowdy in the kitchen.”
Grace nearly choked on her coffee. “Apple pan dowdy over coconut cream pie? I don’t think so.”
“What about chocolate cream pie?” Goldie said next, her hand on her hip.
Grace considered that, but only briefly. “Not interested, sorry.”
“Blueberry?”
“Coconut cream.”
Goldie shook her head, as if bitterly disappointed. “The judge, too?”
Grace nodded. Olivia and Grace remained steadfastly loyal to coconut cream—and to each other.
Still shaking her head, Goldie disappeared into the kitchen.
Sipping her coffee, Grace recalled the afternoon shortly before their high-school graduation, when she’d told Olivia she was pregnant. They’d been sitting in a booth at the Pancake Palace then, too. This was weeks before she’d had the courage to tell her teenage boyfriend. She’d married Dan and shortly afterward he’d joined the army and was shipped off to Vietnam. Grace sighed; she didn’t know why her mind was traveling down that road.
She looked up to see Olivia walking into the restaurant, and although they’d just finished a strenuous physical workout, her friend had hardly a hair out of place. She’d always been like that; she was such a contrast to Jack Griffin, which made their marriage very interesting indeed. Olivia craved order and Jack…well, Jack didn’t. Despite that, or maybe because of it, they succeeded as a couple.
“I ordered the pie,” Grace said when Olivia sat down across from her.
“Great.” She picked up her coffee and after the first sip, exhaled with satisfaction. “How was your week?”
Grace shrugged. “All right, I guess.”
“You guess?”
She’d never managed to keep anything from her friend, she thought with a slight smile. “Cliff talked to Cal, and he’s on his way back to Cedar Cove with two mustangs.”
Olivia studied her carefully and after a short pause, said, “That should be good news, right?”
Grace lowered her gaze. “Normally it would be.” With Cal away in Wyoming, Cliff had been doing Cal’s work as well as his own. Grace didn’t feel she was much help, but she did her best to assist her husband in Cal’s absence.
“What’s going on?” Olivia asked.
Until now, Grace had kept the romance developing between Cal and Vicki Newman to herself. She didn’t believe she had the right to say anything, especially when he’d been so close to Linnette McAfee. Then last Thursday, Linnette had come to her because she’d sensed that something was wrong. Grace wanted to kick Cal for not being more straightforward with the girl.
“Grace?” Olivia said, breaking into her thoughts. “You look a million miles away.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s Cal.”
“You said he’s on his way back.”
“He is, but he dropped a bombshell when he spoke to Cliff last night.” She cupped her hands around the warm mug, letting the heat warm her palms. “He said he wants to marry Vicki Newman.”
“The vet?” Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “Isn’t he seeing Linnette McAfee?”
“He is…was.”
Olivia opened her mouth, and then abruptly closed it. All she said was a soft, “Oh, my.”
“I know.” Grace shared her friend’s feelings.
“Does Linnette have any idea?”
“Cliff didn’t mention that part, but I assume Cal must’ve at least given her a few hints. She was in the library last week and asked me point-blank if Cliff and I had heard from Cal.”
“You told
her?”
Grace felt dreadful about it now. She nodded. “Cliff told me what he suspected was happening between Cal and Vicki. I felt I had to tell her. I tried to be gentle.”
“None of this is your fault.”
It wasn’t her business, either, but she couldn’t leave the poor girl wondering. Now she felt responsible for breaking Linnette’s heart.
Olivia’s hands tightened around her own coffee mug. “Don’t you just want to wring his neck?”
“I certainly think Cal could’ve handled the situation better. Linnette is devastated. From what Corrie said, this is her first really serious relationship.”
“The poor girl,” Olivia murmured sympathetically.
Grace had suspected, at his farewell dinner, that things weren’t going as smoothly between Cal and Linnette as she’d assumed. When she’d discussed it with Cliff later, her husband had said that Cal was awfully eager to leave for Wyoming, eager to get away. Yes, he was genuinely concerned about the mustangs but it was more than that. Cliff hadn’t really understood it at the time; now, however, everything seemed to add up.
“What do you know about Vicki Newman?” Olivia asked.
Grace had taken Buttercup, her golden retriever, to see the vet when the dog had a cancer scare, and she’d been impressed with Vicki’s affection for animals. Sherlock, her cat, had only been in for routine checkups and shots. Vicki was often out at the ranch because of the horses, and had occasionally joined her and Cliff for a coffee. Their conversations tended to be rather stilted.
“She seems nice, but…”
“But what?”
Grace hated to say it out loud. “I find her rather…different. Don’t misunderstand me. I like her, and she’s certainly a skillful vet. She’s always been cordial enough. It’s just that she…communicates better with animals than with people.”
“That could be said for Cal, too, couldn’t it?”
Grace had to agree. “Especially before he started working with the speech therapist,” she recalled. “It was the oddest thing….”
“What was?”
“Whenever he was around the horses, he didn’t stutter at all.” She frowned. “Even though his speech has improved, it’s going to take a lot of effort on his part to learn communication skills. If the way he’s dealt with Linnette is any indication…” Grace couldn’t imagine Cal ever being talkative. She suspected he’d always have trouble sharing his thoughts and feelings with others.
Goldie delivered the pie and refilled their coffee mugs, then stepped away from the table.
“I feel so bad for Linnette.”
“Me, too.” Grace sliced into the pie, feeling a strange sense of sadness. “I just hope Cal’s made the right decision.”
“I do, too.”
“Any news at your end?” Grace asked, eager to hear what Olivia had been up to all week.
“Actually, two pieces of information,” Olivia said.
“I’m all ears.”
“First,” Olivia said, “Mom told me that Ben heard from his older son, Steven.”
“The one who lives in California?”
“No, that’s David. Steven lives on Saint Simons Island in Georgia.”
“Right.” Grace remembered that now. Will Jefferson, Olivia’s brother, lived in the same state; he was definitely not someone she wanted to think about.
“Apparently, David’s in some kind of financial mess and went to his brother for a loan. Steven called to tell his father about it.”
Grace leaned back. “David’s money problem surprises you?”
“Not really. I remember how he tried to swindle my mother out of five thousand dollars.” Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “It makes me mad every time I think about him giving my mother this ludicrous story about needing surgery.”
“Oh, brother.”
“Apparently he already declared bankruptcy a couple of years ago and now there’s no easy solution.”
“He’s being hounded by creditors?” Grace asked. She’d had some experience of that soon after Dan disappeared. It’d been a nightmarish time in her life. She didn’t wish those kinds of pressures on anyone, David Rhodes included. “What I recall is that he asked you to fix his traffic ticket.”
“Like I’d even consider such a thing.”
Grace swallowed another bite of pie. “You said you had two pieces of information.”
Olivia set her fork aside and seemed to be carefully choosing her words. “I don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about,” she began.
“What?” Grace demanded. “Concerned about what?”
“It has to do with my brother, Will,” Olivia informed her.
Grace did her best to appear completely indifferent. “What about him?” He was nothing to her any longer, other than a source of profound embarrassment.
“I know I probably mentioned that he and Georgia are getting divorced. They’ve sold the house and the proceeds have been equally divided between them.”
“Oh.” Grace responded to the news with sadness—not for Will but for his long-suffering wife. Poor Georgia. Grace could all too easily imagine what she must’ve endured through the years. Closing her eyes, Grace acknowledged a sense of guilt for her part in this, and regret that she might have caused the other woman pain. She’d been foolish to get involved with Will. So foolish…Grace had known he was married, which only intensified her guilt. She suspected their emotional affair wasn’t his first, nor was it likely his last. Granted, she hadn’t slept with him but probably would have if the relationship had continued. And according to Olivia, he’d had other actual affairs.
Olivia seemed to be watching her closely.
Grace gave a beleaguered sigh. “There’s more, isn’t there.” She could feel it coming.
Olivia nodded. “Will told Mom he was moving back to Cedar Cove.”
Grace stared at her in horrified silence. “You’ve got to be kidding! What about his job?”
“He’s retired now and seems to be at loose ends.”
Grace closed her eyes. The last time Will came to town had been a disaster. This was shortly after she’d broken off the relationship. He’d insisted she didn’t know what she was doing and that he loved her. At one point, Cliff had stepped in and, in a fit of anger and jealousy, Will had taken a swing at him. It’d been a dreadful scene, a public spectacle, with Will threatening to press charges. Thankfully Olivia had witnessed the episode and made it clear that Will didn’t stand a chance of having any charges stick.
“I’m worried,” Olivia said.
“About me and Cliff?” Grace asked and made a weak dismissive gesture with her hand. “Don’t be.”
“No,” Olivia told her. “I’m concerned about Will. Mom is, too. She suggested he rethink this move. It’s too drastic, especially so soon after the divorce. He needs to stay where he is. And…”
Olivia hesitated and took a deep breath. “What bothers me more than anything is that my brother, who can be as clueless as a Keystone Cop, might assume you’re still available.”
“Will knows I’m married.” She remembered that Olivia had expressly told him.
“He knows, all right,” Olivia said. “But a little thing like a wedding band, including the one on his finger, hasn’t stopped him before. He might have the mistaken impression that it won’t stop you, either.”
Grace swallowed. “Then I’ll just have to tell him.” Cliff would be happy to oblige in that regard, too; however, she had every intention of keeping the two men away from each other.
Thirty-Five
The first time Anson Butler kissed Allison Cox was last October, after a Friday-night football game. Instead of attending the Homecoming dance, they’d sat in the bleachers and talked long after everyone else had left. Allison remembered that kiss as clearly as if it’d just happened. She’d had boyfriends before and had dated a jock while she was a junior. Clay was a really nice guy, popular and funny, but his interests were limited and they didn’t have much in common. Th
ey broke up shortly after the prom.
Anson was different. They’d had a couple of classes together the year before, but she hadn’t really noticed him until this year, when they sat across from each other in French. His language skills were impressive, and he seemed to catch on faster than anyone else. Allison hated the way he’d downplayed his abilities and made light of his intelligence. Thinking back, she decided it was his sense of humor, unexpectedly wry, that had initially attracted her.
Sitting in the bleachers now, in the same row as she had during that first kiss, Allison closed her eyes and tried to recapture the exciting sensations she’d experienced that night.
It’d been really cold, she recalled, and the lights on the field were off. Clouds scudding across the sky had frequently obscured the full moon; the intermittent darkness had given them a feeling of seclusion, of privacy. Anson wore his long black coat with a knit stocking cap pulled down over his ears. He didn’t wear gloves and his hands had been cold to the touch. Unlike him, Allison was bundled up head to foot in a red coat and scarf, hat, mittens and boots with wool socks.
They sat huddled together against the wind. The music spilled faintly from the gym, where everyone was dancing. He’d ditched his friends and she had hers.
Anson had amused her that night, speaking in French, making up words. She’d laughed at something he’d said and then, for no reason, they weren’t laughing anymore. Anson had leaned forward to kiss her, hesitant, as if waiting for Allison to stop him. All she could do was hope that he wouldn’t stop. When their lips met, his were cold and chapped. Hers were warm and moist, and she parted them slightly, wanting him to know how glad she was to receive his kiss.
The moment was perfect. Afterward, they’d stared at each other for a long time, and then Anson had said that kissing her was even better than he’d expected. For her, too.
Her phone rang, jolting Allison out of those comforting memories. She snapped open her cell and saw that he was right on time. “Anson?” she whispered.
“I’m here. You got the message from Shaw?”
She nodded. His friend had called the night before and told her Anson would phone at nine. That was all he said, then he’d simply cut off the connection. “He seems to enjoy playing courier.”
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