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Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3

Page 106

by Debbie Macomber


  Kent’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

  Faith nodded.

  “First let me see if I can arrange this airport ride,” Troy said, reaching for his cell. He punched in the appropriate number and waited. Logan, the son of a friend, had recently started a car service, focusing on airport transportation. He was hungry enough to take the fare, even if it was Christmas Day.

  After a short conversation, Troy closed his cell. “He’ll be here within thirty minutes.”

  “Have you ever done anything so stupid you wonder what you could possibly have been thinking?” Kent asked Troy.

  The sheriff wasn’t sure whether this was a real question or a rhetorical one. He decided to answer it anyway. “We all have, at one time or other. All you can do is learn from it—and you’ve certainly done that. And like Faith says, things will probably turn out okay.”

  Kent looked up and gave a slight nod. “I appreciate the encouraging words.”

  After a few minutes, Troy returned to the kitchen. The Beldons had gathered there. Danielle sat in the living room next to her suitcase, crying quietly. He did feel sorry for her. This couldn’t be easy; no broken relationship was.

  Kent wanted to pay for the damages, but the Beldons refused. And at their insistence, no charges would be laid. They, too, sympathized with Danielle, despite their exasperation with her out-of-control behavior.

  To be on the safe side Troy and Faith remained at the B and B until Logan arrived and Danielle departed.

  They left a few minutes later. Faith sighed as Troy turned out of the driveway.

  “Well, that was an unexpected interlude,” she said in a good-humored voice. “I don’t know what would’ve happened to that poor girl—and Kent—if we hadn’t got there when we did. You’re my hero, Troy Davis.”

  “And you’re my sweetheart,” he returned, smiling in her direction.

  Twenty

  “Now what?” Will Jefferson asked. He held his gloved hands upright like a surgeon about to enter the operating theater.

  “It’s a turkey,” Miranda Sullivan teased, “not an appendectomy.”

  Will lowered his arms.

  “We’re going to stuff it,” Miranda said.

  “You mean I’m actually going to put my hands inside that bird?” His look was incredulous.

  “Yes.” It was difficult to keep a straight face when Will took everything so seriously.

  “I’ve never done this before.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “Really? You could’ve fooled me.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m doing my best not to.”

  Will grinned. “Well, this is hard work. First time in my life that I’ve cooked a turkey.”

  “We’ll do fine.”

  “I’m glad you’re with me,” he said, “and not just because of the turkey.”

  “I’m happy to be here.”

  Quite unexpectedly, Will had invited Miranda to spend Christmas Day with him. They’d worked together at the Harbor Street Art Gallery for the past several months. She’d started as part-time help, working a couple of days a week. Gradually, Will had increased her hours.

  In the beginning they hadn’t gotten along. He thought she was too opinionated; she thought he was stubborn and dictatorial. But as the weeks progressed they’d formed a strong friendship. She’d taken a step toward compromise and he’d taken one, too, and they’d met in the middle.

  Recently…well, very recently, that friendship took another turn. Miranda wasn’t ready to put a name to it; she wasn’t sure it was safe for her heart to define it. Not yet. But…there was definitely a sense of excitement that sizzled between them.

  They’d kissed. She’d kissed him once, shocking herself far more than she’d shocked Will. And he’d kissed her. More than once.

  Will had moved into his childhood home a few weeks earlier, purchasing the residence on Eagle Crest Avenue from his mother. This made it possible for Charlotte and Ben to move into the Sanford assisted-living complex without the additional worry of what would happen to their home.

  Will and his sister, Olivia, had come up with the idea and coincidentally the move had benefited Miranda, too. She lived near Gig Harbor, a twenty-minute drive from Cedar Cove. The lease on her apartment was up, and she’d been hoping to move closer to the art gallery when Will approached her about living in his apartment on the premises. He’d had it remodeled and she could move in whenever she wished.

  It was an offer too good to refuse. Her best friend, Shirley Bliss, had urged her to accept. Miranda grew a bit sad as she thought about Shirley. They’d become close after they’d both lost their husbands. Miranda had been married to an artist and Shirley was one herself. They’d helped each other adjust to widowhood.

  Shirley had remarried a couple of months ago, and as soon as Tanni, her daughter, graduated from high school, Shirley planned to move to California with her new husband, Larry Knight, who was a nationally known and highly respected artist.

  It would be hard to see Shirley leave the area and yet Miranda couldn’t begrudge her friend this happiness. They’d stay in touch, of course, but…it wasn’t the same.

  Will had been attracted to Shirley. His ego had taken a beating when she chose Larry Knight over him. The fact that he’d introduced Shirley to Larry had made the whole situation especially galling for Will; Miranda understood that. When he’d first started paying attention to her, Miranda had reason to think he was trying to make Shirley jealous. She wouldn’t stand for that and made sure Will knew it.

  Lately, however, there’d been a shift in the way he treated her. But his first tentative attempts to deepen their relationship didn’t work, mainly because Miranda didn’t trust him. He’d invited her to dinner and she’d refused. Later, she felt bad about that and she’d taken him a store-bought chicken. So they’d ended up having dinner together, after all. That was the night he’d invited her to spend Christmas Day with him.

  “Now what?” Will asked. He was pushing the homemade stuffing into the cavity.

  “Keep going until you can’t get any more inside.”

  “Okay. Although this is kind of a revolting activity.”

  She laughed. “Will, why did you buy a twenty-three-pound bird for just the two of us?” she asked.

  “I don’t know… At least there’ll be plenty of leftovers.”

  “Enough to feed an army,” she muttered.

  “And a navy,” he added.

  He finished with the stuffing, and washed his hands while Miranda basted the turkey and placed an aluminum-foil tent over the top. “Okay, it’s ready for the oven,” she said.

  She held open the oven door and Will slid the turkey inside. “How long will it take?” he asked.

  “Twenty minutes a pound, so do the math.”

  “Seven and a half hours?”

  “You’ll build up an appetite,” she said. “And we can have some crackers and cheese while we wait.”

  “And a nice glass of wine…” Will pulled off his oven mitts. “Any other suggestions?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” She left the kitchen and went into the living room to collect her bag. Reaching inside, she took out a wrapped gift. “For you,” she said playfully, handing him the large square box.

  Will looked a bit uneasy, which told her what she already suspected. He hadn’t purchased her a gift. She hadn’t really expected him to. Besides, this was more of a thank-you for having h
er over.

  “It’s small, just a token,” she said. She didn’t want to embarrass him or make him feel guilty for not reciprocating.

  “Go ahead and open it,” she urged.

  “You shouldn’t have,” he said theatrically. He sat down on the sofa and tore away the paper. When he saw the jigsaw puzzle, he grinned. The picture was a seascape, with dolphins and tropical fish swimming in a blue, blue ocean. “Hey, good idea! We can put it together this afternoon.”

  Miranda stood and started to clear off the table. “I used to enjoy doing puzzles,” she told him. “This table’s big enough to lay out all the pieces.”

  “Here. Now you open my gift,” Will said.

  Miranda turned around, leaning against the table’s edge. She frowned as Will gave her the small, beautifully wrapped gift. The shape and size hinted that it’d come from a jewelry store.

  “Is this a marriage proposal?” she joked, and then laughed nervously, wondering how she could have asked something so idiotic.

  “Not yet,” he returned quite seriously.

  Miranda stared at the package, almost afraid to remove the wrapping.

  “Open it,” he said.

  Reluctantly, she untied the ribbon. “You didn’t wrap this yourself.”

  “You’re right, the store did.” He stood next to her and nudged her to continue unwrapping.

  “I…wasn’t expecting anything like this,” she said. “All I got you is a puzzle.”

  “I know you’ll be surprised, which makes it all the more special.”

  Her hand trembled as she carefully slipped off the paper. Holding her breath, Miranda lifted the lid of the small blue box. Inside was a gold coin, a very old one, she guessed, framed by a gold bezel.

  “It’s from a sunken treasure ship found off the Florida coast,” Will explained.

  Taking it from the box, she saw that the coin was attached to a fine gold chain. Will took it out of her fingers, placed it around her neck and secured the clasp. She could feel the coin resting at the base of her throat, the metal smooth and cool. Automatically, she pressed her hand over it.

  “It’s treasure, Miranda,” Will whispered. “Just like you are to me.”

  She blinked a couple of times, hardly able to fathom that Will Jefferson would do this for her. Or that he’d say such a thing.

  “I…” Speaking seemed impossible, and whatever she said, whatever words of appreciation she managed to form, would never be enough. “I don’t know how to…thank you.”

  “You’re kidding. You, speechless? I don’t believe it.”

  “Don’t joke, Will. I mean it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done anything like this for me.”

  Will kissed her then. Really kissed her. He was gentle and loving, and when he raised his head, his eyes were filled with promise.

  Twenty-One

  “Mom, what time will Dad get here?” Sophie asked, as she and Bailey hurried into the kitchen. “Is Danielle coming, too?”

  Beth had expected them long before now. She was clearing away the last of their brunch dishes, irritated that she hadn’t heard from Kent. She was determined not to contact him, although she considered it bad manners to keep his family waiting on Christmas Day. “I don’t think your father actually gave us a time,” she said with more generosity than she felt. He’d certainly implied it would be that morning.

  “Oh,” Sophie murmured.

  “It’s already afternoon,” Bailey said. “We’ve never opened our gifts this late.”

  That seemed like a minor complaint to Beth. The thought of spending Christmas Day with Kent’s…friend was enough to make her feel like going back to bed. Playing hostess to Danielle was above and beyond the call of duty.

  It hadn’t bothered her nearly as much until she’d realized how deeply she still loved Kent. For the past three years, she’d been able to live with a degree of contentment, refusing to acknowledge how lonely she was.

  “Mom, call Dad and ask when he’s going to be here,” Bailey said.

  “Why don’t you phone him?” Beth suggested. She purposely banished the picture of Kent and Danielle cuddled together while their daughters impatiently awaited his arrival.

  “Okay.”

  Cell phone in hand, Bailey sat down, propping her elbows on the kitchen table.

  Beth tuned out her daughter’s conversation as she silently prayed for the strength to get through the day. Depression weighed heavily on her. If she managed to survive this Christmas, she’d tell Kent she’d made a mistake. She loved him and wanted him back in her life. Only she couldn’t tell him that in Danielle’s presence.

  No, she might as well forget any hope of a reconciliation, she told herself. Danielle was young and beautiful and competitive. She wouldn’t give Kent up easily. Beth had made the mistake, and now she had to live with the consequences.

  “Mom? Mom?”

  “Yes,” Beth said, turning her thoughts away from her ex-husband.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” Sophie asked, joining her sister at the table.

  “I…don’t know.” What Beth really wanted was to escape to her room with a fake flu bug and leave the girls to celebrate Christmas with Kent and Danielle. But she couldn’t do that to her daughters. She’d muddle through and somehow find the strength to pretend all was well.

  “Dad’s on his way,” Bailey told her.

  “Good.” She forced a smile. Turning from the sink, she grabbed a dish towel and wiped her hands dry. Needing fortification, she went to freshen her makeup.

  Upstairs in her bathroom, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Sad. Sad. Sad. She straightened her shoulders, saying, “You can do this. You can do this.”

  When she walked down the stairs she found Kent standing by the front door. She stopped abruptly before she reached the bottom. He looked up at her; their eyes met, and her heart immediately reacted. She gave him a tentative smile.

  Kent smiled back.

  He spoke first. “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Her voice sounded wispy. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Dad,” Bailey said excitedly, rushing over to him. She paused and looked around. “Where’s Danielle?”

  Kent broke eye contact with her. “She isn’t here.”

  “Isn’t here? Did she stay at the B and B?”

  “Not…exactly.” He bent down to take off his boots.

  “Then where is she?”

  Kent glanced at his watch. “I imagine she’s at the airport about now.”

  “The airport?” Sophie repeated. “I thought she was spending Christmas in Cedar Cove.”

  “That was her original plan. She came with me, hoping to meet up with a sailor she’d met when he was on leave in California. Apparently, she read more into the relationship than she should have.”

  “What?” Beth asked in shock. “She came to meet up with a sailor? But…”

  “Danielle was hoping to see this guy, Hunter. She and I were talking about that, and I told her I still had feelings for you, but wasn’t sure what to do when you asked me to come here for Christmas. She offered to come with me and—”

  “Wait.” Beth’s hand flew to her chest. “I asked you? I think there’s been some misunderstanding.” Beth noticed that the girls had skittered off as she spoke.

  Kent frowned. “You mean you didn’t?”

  Beth frowned,
too. “Are you saying you weren’t the one who wanted to spend Christmas as a family?”

  “Bailey! Sophie!” Beth and Kent shouted at the same time.

  “Bailey Madison. Sophie Lynn,” Beth threw in for good measure.

  Their two daughters reappeared, looking sheepish.

  “Okay, we admit it,” Bailey said, hands in her back hip pockets. “The thing is, Sophie and I think this whole divorce is wrong. We thought if the two of you were together at Christmas, you’d realize what a terrible mistake you made. Then Dad had to go and ruin everything by bringing Danielle.”

  “I didn’t exactly bring her,” he clarified. “Danielle told me she intended to visit the area at the same time, and we discovered we’d be on the same flight and had booked rooms at the same bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Just a minute,” Beth said in confusion. “But she works with you, right? That’s all true?”

  “Yes. She works in the accounting department.”

  “Are…are you… Have you ever been involved?”

  “Good heavens, no.”

  “But…”

  Kent broke eye contact. “While we were at the airport waiting for the plane, we started talking. Just like I already told you, I explained that I wasn’t sure how I felt about being here this Christmas. I missed my wife, but the girls had hinted that you were seeing the local vet and I didn’t want to be a fifth wheel. So Danielle said what you needed was some competition and I…agreed. I felt it was worth a shot, anyway. So she put on this ridiculous act and—” He shrugged, glancing up the staircase at Beth. “I regretted the entire charade immediately, but by then it seemed too late. The whole thing had taken on a momentum of its own.…” He shrugged. “I just hope you can forgive me.”

  The girls sent each other a triumphant smile, as if they were personally responsible for this turn of events.

  Kent continued to hold Beth’s look.

  She bit her lip and started down the remaining steps.

  “Problem is,” he told his daughters, “I don’t know how your mother feels about me. It’s been three years.”

 

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