Friends—And Then Some is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
2013 Debbie Macomber eBook Edition
Copyright © 1986 by Debbie Macomber
“Rose Harbor Inn Guest Book” by Kevin Weaver copyright © 2013 by Random House LLC
“A Newcomer’s Guide to Blossom Street from Debbie Macomber” copyright © 2013 by Debbie Macomber
Excerpt from The Inn at Rose Harbor by Debbie Macomber copyright © 2012 by Debbie Macomber
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Debbie Macomber Books, an imprint of Debbie Macomber, Inc.
Distributed by Random House LLC.
DEBBIE MACOMBER BOOKS is a registered trademark of Debbie Macomber, Inc.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Universal Yarn for permission to reprint the Jo Marie’s Crochet Shawl pattern and instructions designed by Ellen Gormley for Universal Yarn, the Jo Marie’s Knitted Shawl pattern and instructions designed by Michael del Vecchio for Universal Yarn, and the accompanying photos by Shane Baskin/Black Box Studios. Patterns and photos are reprinted by permission of Universal Yarn.
Originally published in paperback in the United States by Silhouette Books, New York, in 1986.
eBook ISBN 978-1-941-82401-6
www.debbiemacomber.com
Cover design: Lynn Andreozzi
Cover image: © pasmal/a collectionRF
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Author’s Note
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Knitting Patterns
Rose Harbor Inn Guest Book
A Newcomer’s Guide to Blossom Street from Debbie Macomber
Excerpt from The Inn at Rose Harbor
Dear Friends,
From the time I was ten my father was convinced I had the potential to be a musical genius. Why he made this assumption is beyond me. Although it was a strain on our family budget, Dad bought me a piano and signed me up for lessons. Dad could play by ear. Unfortunately, I couldn’t play the piano with both my hands. My lack of musical ability was a sorry disappointment to my poor dad, but he loved me and encouraged me anyway and beamed with pride when I told him I wanted to be a writer one day. Thankfully he lived long enough to see that desire come to fruition.
We all need a cheerleader in life, don’t we? For Lily, it’s her friend Jack. Lily plays the piano in a San Francisco hotel—she has talent—and Jack drives a taxi. Lily couldn’t ask for a better friend than Jack, and well … I best not tell you more, seeing that you’re about to read the book.
Friends—And Then Some was originally published in 1986 when I was baby author. In other words I was extremely young in book years! So this is truly a classic romance and one of the my first published books. I hope you enjoy the read.
Hearing from my readers is a joy to me. I read through every piece of mail that comes into the office. You can reach me through my website at DebbieMacomber.com or on Facebook or Twitter. Or you can write me at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.
Warmest regards,
Debbie Macomber
Chapter One
The thick canvas sail flapped in the breeze before Jake Carson aligned the boat to catch the wind. The Lucky Lady responded by slicing through the choppy waters of San Francisco Bay. Satisfied, Jake leaned back and closed his eyes, content with his life and with the world.
“Do you think I’m being terribly mercenary?” Lily Morrissey asked as she stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “It sounds so coldhearted to decide to marry a man simply because he’s wealthy. He doesn’t have to be that rich.” She paused to sigh expressively. Lately she’d given the matter consideration. For almost a year now she’d been playing the piano at the Wheaton. Only wealthy businessmen could afford to stay at a hotel as expensive as the Wheaton. And Lily was determined to find herself such a man. Unfortunately, no one had leaped forward, and she’d grown discouraged. Each day she told herself that she would meet someone soon. That hope was what kept Lily going back night after night.
“I’d only want someone rich enough to appreciate opera,” she added thoughtfully. “Naturally it’d be nice if he drove a fancy car, but that isn’t essential. All I really care about is his bank account. It’s got to be large enough to take care of Gram and me. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Jake’s mouth.
“Jake?” she prodded, slightly irritated.
“Hmm?”
“You haven’t heard a word I said.”
“Sure I have. You were talking about finding yourself a wealthy man.”
“Yes, but that’s what I always talk about. You could have guessed.” Maybe she was foolish to dream of the day when a generous man would adorn her with diamonds.
“I wasn’t guessing. I heard every word.”
Lily studied him through narrowed eyes. “Sure you did,” she mumbled under her breath.
Jake’s slow, lazy smile came into play again.
Lily studied the profile of her best friend. Jake drove a taxi and they’d met the first week she worked at the Wheaton. She owed him a lot. Not only did he give her free rides back and forth to work when he was available, which was just about every day, but he’d also rescued Gram and Lily from the Wheaton’s manager.
Lily’s starting wage had been less than what Gram had paid for an hour of piano lessons. Gram had raised Lily from the time her mother had died and her father had sought his fortune as a merchant marine. She was now twenty-five. Gram had been outraged by the manager’s unintended slight. And Gram, being Gram, couldn’t do anything without a production. She’d shown up at the hotel in an authentic witch doctor’s costume and proceeded to chant a voodoo rite of retribution over the manager’s head.
Luckily, Lily had gotten her grandmother out of the lobby before the police arrived. Jake had been standing next to his taxi and had witnessed the entire scene. Before everything exploded in Lily’s face, Jake held open the cab door and whisked Gram and Lily away from any unpleasantness. Over the months that followed, the three had become good friends.
Jake was actually a struggling writer. He lived on his boat and worked hard enough to meet expenses by driving the taxi. At thirty-two, he didn’t seem to take anything too seriously. Not even his writing. Lily sometimes wondered how many other people he gave free rides to. Money didn’t matter to Jake. But it did to Lily.
“I am going to meet someone,” Lily continued on a serious note.
“I don’t doubt it,” Jake said and yawned, raising his hand to cover his mouth.
“I mean it, Jake. Tonight. I bet I meet someone tonight.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Jake mumbled in reply.
* * *
Her words echoed in her ears several hours later when Lily pulled out the bench of the huge grand piano that dominated the central courtyard of the Wheaton. Dressed in her full-length sleeveless dress and dainty slippers, she was barely recognizable as the woman who’d spent the afternoon aboard Jake’s boat.
Deftly her fingers moved over the smooth ivory keys as her upper body swayed with the melody of a Carpenters’ hit.
Some days Lily felt that her smile was as artific
ial as her thick, curling eyelashes. After twenty-seven hundred times of hearing “Moon River,” “Misty” and “Sentimental Journey,” Lily was ready to take a journey herself. Maybe that was why she had talked to Jake. If she was going to meet someone, surely it would have happened by now. Sighing inwardly, she continued playing, hardly conscious of her fingers.
Five minutes later when Lily glanced up, she was surprised to find a ruddy-faced cowboy standing next to the piano, watching her.
She smiled up at him and asked, “Is there something you’d like to hear?” He had to be close to forty-five, with the beginnings of a double chin. A huge turquoise buckle dominated the slight thickening at his waist. He was a good-looking man who was already going to seed.
“Do you know ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine’?” The slight southern drawl wasn’t a surprise. His head was topped with a Stetson, although he was dressed in a linen sport coat that hadn’t cost a penny under five hundred dollars. A Texan, she mused; a rich Texan, probably into oil.
“ ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine,’ ” she repeated aloud. “I’m not sure that I do,” she answered with a warm smile. “Hum a few bars for me.” She didn’t usually get requests. People were more interested in checking in to the hotel or meeting their friends for a drink in the sunken cocktail lounge to care about what she was playing.
The man placed a steadying hand against the side of the piano and momentarily closed his eyes. “I can’t remember the melody,” he admitted sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m not much good with that sort of thing. I’m an oilman, not a singer.”
So he was into oil just as she suspected. Lily got a glance at his feet and recognized the shoes from an advertisement she’d seen in GQ. Cowboy boots, naturally, but ones made of imported leather and inlaid with silver. Leather, Lily felt, made the difference between being dressed and well dressed. This gentleman was definitely well dressed.
“Do you know who sang the popular version?” she questioned brightly, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it would slam right out of her chest. She’d told Jake she was going to meet someone. And that someone had appeared at last! And he wasn’t wearing a wedding band either.
“Nope, I can’t say that I do.”
“Maybe there’s another song you’d like to hear?” Without conscious thought her hands continued to play as she glanced up at the cowboy with two chins and reminded herself that looks weren’t everything. But, then again, maybe he had been married and had a son her age—an heir.
“One day I’m going to find some sweet gal who knows that blasted song,” he muttered. “It always was my favorite.”
Already Lily’s mind had shifted into overdrive. Somehow, she’d locate his long-lost song and gain his everlasting gratitude. “Will you be around tomorrow?”
“I should be.”
“Come back and I’ll see what I can do.”
He straightened and gave her a brief salute. “I’ll do that, little filly.”
Lily’s heart was pounding so hard that by the time she finished an hour later, she felt as if she’d been doing calisthenics. Maybe he’d be so grateful he’d insist on taking her to dinner. This could be the break Lily had waited months for. It hadn’t happened exactly as she’d expected, but it was just the chance she’d been wanting. Already she could picture herself sitting in an elegant restaurant, ordering almond-saffron soup and lobster in wine sauce. For dessert she’d have Italian ice cream with walnuts and caramel oozing from the sides. Her mouth watered just thinking about all the wonderful foods she’d read about but never tasted. Her Texan would probably order barbecued chicken, but she wouldn’t care. He could well be her ticket to riches and a genteel life … if she played her cards right. And for the first time in a long while, Lily felt she’d been dealt a hand of aces.
* * *
Jake was in his cab, parked in front of the hotel, when she stepped into the balmy summer night. Eagerly she waved and hurried across the wide circular driveway to the bright yellow taxi.
“Jake!” she cried. “Didn’t I tell you today was the day? Didn’t I? The most fantastically wonderful thing has happened! I can’t believe I’m so lucky.” She felt like holding out her arms and twirling around and bursting into song.
With one elbow leaning against the open window, Jake studied her with serious dark eyes and a slow, measured smile that lifted one corner of his full mouth. “Obviously Daddy Warbucks introduced himself.”
“Yes,” she said, and giggled. “My Daddy Warbucks.”
Leaning across the front seat, Jake swung open the passenger door. “Climb in and you can tell me all about it on the way to your house.”
Rushing around the front of the car, Lily scooted inside the cab and closed the door. Jake started the engine and pulled onto the busy street, skillfully merging with the flowing traffic. “I was so surprised, I nearly missed my chance,” Lily started up again. “Suddenly, after all these months, he was there in a five-hundred-dollar sport coat, requesting a song. He called me ‘little filly,’ and, Jake, he’s rich. Really, really rich. I can just see that Texas oil oozing from every pore.” She paused long enough to inhale before continuing. “He’s older, maybe forty-five or fifty, but that’s not so bad. And he’s nice. I can tell that about a man. Remember how I met you and instantly knew what a great person you were? That’s just the kind of feeling I had tonight.” She continued chattering for another full minute until she realized how quiet Jake had become. “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry, I’ve been talking up a storm here without giving you a chance to think.”
“You’re talking with a drawl.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m practicing. I was born in Texas, you know.”
“You were?”
“No, of course not, but I thought it’d impress him.”
The slow, lazy smile came into play again.
Lily studied the intense profile of her friend as he steered. Jake wasn’t handsome—not in the way the models for GQ were. He was tall with broad shoulders and a muscular build. But with those sea-green eyes and that dark hair, he could be attractive if he tried. Only Jake couldn’t care less. Half the time he dressed in faded jeans and outdated sweaters. Lily doubted that he even owned a suit. Formal wear wasn’t part of Jake’s image.
As she studied Jake, Lily realized that she really didn’t know much about him. Jake kept the past to himself. She knew he’d been a medic in the Army, and had an engineering degree from a prestigious college back east someplace. From tidbits of conversation here and there, she’d learned that he’d worked at every type of job imaginable. There didn’t seem to be anything he hadn’t tried once and—if he liked it—done again and again. In some ways Jake reminded Lily of her father, who had been in the merchant marines and brought her a storehouse of treasures from around the world. Jake was the kind of man who could do anything he put his mind to. He was creative and intelligent, proud and resourceful. Lily supposed she loved him, but only as a friend. He was her confidant, and, in many ways, her partner. Her feelings were more like those of a young girl for an endearing older brother or an adventurous sidekick. Love, real love between a man and a woman, was an emotion Lily held in reserve for her husband. But first she had to convince a rich man that she would be an excellent wife.
Studying Jake now, Lily noted that something had displeased him. She could tell by the way he tucked back his chin, giving an imitation of a cobra prepared to strike. He exuded impatience and restrained anger. From past experience, Lily knew that whatever was bothering him would be divulged in his own time and in his own way.
“Well?” he snapped.
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to tell me your plan to snag this rich guy or not?”
“Are you sure you want to hear? You sound like you want to snap my head off.”
“Damn it, Lily, one of these days …” He paused to inhale sharply as if the night were responsible for his wrath. Several moments passed before he spoke, and when he did his voice was as smooth as velvet, almost caressing.
<
br /> Lily wasn’t fooled. Jake was furious. “All right, tell me what’s wrong. Did you get stiffed again? I thought you had a foolproof system for avoiding that.”
“No one stiffed me.”
“Then what?”
He ignored her, seeming to concentrate on the traffic. “Listen, kid, you’ve got to be careful.”
Lily hated it when Jake called her “kid” and he knew it. “Be careful? What are you talking about? You’re acting like I’m planning to handle toxic waste. Good grief, I don’t even know his name.”
“You could be playing with fire.”
“I’m not playing anything yet. Which reminds me, have you ever heard the song ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine’?”
“ ‘Santa Fe Gal of Mine’?” The harsh, disgruntled look left his expression as a smile split his mouth. “No, I can’t say that I have.”
“Gram will know it,” Lily said with complete confidence. Her grandmother might be a bit eccentric, but the woman was a virtual warehouse of useless information. If that wealthy Texan’s favorite song was ever on the charts, Gram would know it.
Jake eased to a stop in front of the large two-story house with the wide front porch.
“Can you come in now or will you be by later?”
“Later,” he answered with apparent indifference.
Lily walked toward the house and paused on the front steps, confused again. A disturbing shiver trembled through her at the cool, appraising way Jake had behaved this evening. His smooth, impenetrable green eyes resembled the dark jade Buddha her father had brought her from Hong Kong. Nothing about Jake had been the same tonight. Lily attributed it to his having had a bad day. But it shouldn’t have been. They’d spent the majority of it sailing and they both loved that. But then everyone had a bad day now and again. Jake was entitled to his.
Shaking off the feelings of unease, Lily stepped inside the fifty-year-old house, pausing to pat Herbie. Herbie was her grandmother’s favorite conversation piece—a shrunken head from South America. A zebra-skin rug from Africa rested in front of the fireplace.
The television blared from Gram’s bedroom, but the older woman was snoring just as loudly, drowning out the sounds of the cops-and-robbers movie. With an affectionate smile, Lily turned off the set and quietly tiptoed from the darkened room. She’d talk to Gram in the morning.
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