Sweet Tomorrows

by Debbie Macomber

  My mother wasn’t happy with me staying in Cedar Cove and missing out on the family gathering.

  “I wanted you to meet Fred,” she’d insisted. “I made all these arrangements and now you tell me you aren’t coming.”

  “Mom, I told you that last week,” I’d reminded her.

  Her lingering sigh said it all. “Fred is going to be disappointed.”

  Fred, if this was the Fred I remembered, was undoubtedly as eager to escape this matchmaking effort as I was. He was forty and lived with his mother. Enough said. I was fairly certain he was no more interested in dating me than I was in a romantic relationship with him.

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this, Emily. It’s like you’ve given up on life,” Mom protested, as though her words were a wake-up call for me to fall, unresisting, into her plans. “You’re overreacting; lots of women are in your situation…”

  “Mom, please…don’t.” I didn’t want this to turn into another one of her heart-to-heart chats with me. As much as I loved my family, I didn’t want to hear it.

  My mother was wrong. I hadn’t given up on life; what no longer interested me was risking my heart by falling in love. Those wounds cut deep, but there were other, bigger obstacles and my mother seemed to discount them.

  I wouldn’t make that mistake again. The pain involved when the truth came out as the relationship deepened was more than I could face a third time. I couldn’t bear to go through it again; it wasn’t worth the emotional agony. I had a new plan for the future, and while I would have liked to share my life with a husband, it wasn’t in the cards for me. I’d accepted that and was content.

  The neighborhood kids started setting off fireworks at about three in the afternoon. I had never been a fan of fireworks. In my humble opinion they should be left to the professionals. The newspapers and airwaves were filled with dire warnings regarding fire danger and safety hazards.

  It was fortunate that the city of Cedar Cove put on its own display, and I had the perfect location for a spectacular view. I’d invited Jo Marie’s friend Dana and her family to join me, but they had other plans with her husband’s sister’s family. Basically, it was just Rover and me, which was fine.

  Because it didn’t get dark in the Pacific Northwest until nearly ten at night, I sat out on the deck with a glass of iced tea. Rover was snoozing contentedly at my side as I propped my feet up and focused on my e-reader. I must have dozed off, because I heard the phone in the distance.

  Dropping my legs, I raced into the house and Jo Marie’s office.

  “Rose Harbor Inn.”

  “You got a dog named Rover?” a gruff male voice asked.

  “Y-e-s. Why do you want to know?”

  “ ’Cause he’s here.”

  He didn’t mention where here was. Not that it mattered, because I knew otherwise.

  “No, he isn’t. He’s on the porch with me.”

  “You might want to check that out, lady.”

  “Okay, I will.” I wasn’t willing to take a stranger’s word for it. “Give me a minute.” Seeing that Rover was a common dog name, there had to be more than one in the vicinity, although why the man had the phone number to the inn remained a mystery.

  I hurried out to the porch where I’d last seen Rover, and after a frantic search I had to accept he wasn’t there. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere that I could see. I swallowed hard as a sense of panic filled me. The fireworks must have frightened him. If I lost Rover, Jo Marie would be devastated. She doted on that dog; the two were inseparable. She’d entrusted me with caring for him. I couldn’t let her down.

  Racing back into the house, I grabbed the phone. “He isn’t here,” I blurted out.

  “I know, lady, because he’s here.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Harbor Street at a place called A Horse with No Name.”

  The biker bar. Rover had roamed that far from the inn?

  “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

  “Is he hurt?” I asked, doing my best to sound calm, although my heart was racing frantically.

  “He’s drunk.”

  “Drunk?”

  “The guys here are feeding him beer.”

  I gasped. “Oh no, I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

  The gruff-voiced man on the other end of the line laughed. “I thought that might be the case.”

  As soon as I disconnected, I grabbed my car keys and raced out of the inn, stopping only long enough to make sure all the doors were locked. The last thing I wanted was for someone to break in and rob the place while I was away.

  Because of the fireworks display on the waterfront, getting out of the downtown area was a hassle; traffic was a mess. I’d worked in the Seattle area, where snarled traffic was a way of life. It generally didn’t bother me. It did now. I wouldn’t rest easy until I had Rover back at the inn and sobered up.

  A Horse with No Name tavern was a run-down shack on the outskirts of town. A long row of motorcycles was lined up in neat formation out front. I parked on the side of the tavern among several other cars, then squared my shoulders and walked into the bar.

  I found the large open room filled with burly men in leather vests. Music blared from the jukebox loud enough to hurt my ears. Several pool tables set against the wall had intimidating, heavily tattooed men milling around them. I didn’t see many women and the ones I did were hanging on to the men like pole dancers in a strip club. Most important, I didn’t see Rover.

  Not knowing who I’d spoken to on the phone, I did what I thought was sensible. I headed for the bar, edging my way among tables, chairs, and bodies, all of which seemed to take pride in impeding my progress.

  “Hey, babe, you looking to party?” one beefy, gray-haired biker asked. He looked old enough to be my father, with a thick, scruffy, unkempt beard. Both arms had sleeve tattoos and his neck was heavily marked as well.

  “No thanks,” I said, not wanting to offend him. “I’m here for my dog.”

  “Hey, that mutt your dog? He’s a party animal if ever I saw one,” he said and laughed at his own joke.

  “He likes beer,” another biker commented. “Bet you do, too.”

  It was hard to make out the words over the loud music. Again I smiled and politely declined. “I’m only here for the dog.”

  It felt like forever before I was able to make it across the room. The bartender was busy filling pitchers of beer and didn’t notice me until I stood on the tips of my toes and leaned as far forward as I could, waving my arm in order to catch his attention.

  “Be with you in a minute,” he called out when he noticed me.

  “I’m here about the dog.”

  “I’ll get to you in a minute, lady. I’m working as fast as I can here; be a little patient, will ya?”

  “Okay, sorry.” Patience wasn’t one of my strong suits. I found being around these bikers unsettling, especially since several seemed to have taken a keen interest in me. The sooner I was back at the inn, the better I’d like it.

  The bartender slid the pitcher toward the end of the bar and immediately reached for another.

  Seeing how crowded the place was and how overwhelmed the bartender seemed to be, this could take awhile. “Where’s Rover?” I shouted above the noise and racket. “If you tell me, I’ll get him myself.”

  “Got him in the back. Give me a minute, would you?”

  “Sure.” His tone told me his office was off-limits. Rover was a nuisance; I was grateful he took the time to call me and let me know where he was.

  Oh dear, if Jo Marie heard about this she would come unglued. I was unglued.

  “Put a beer for the lady on my tab,” the older biker shouted out as he crowded into the space next to me, pressing his body firmly against mine.

  I did my best to put some distance between us, although it did little good. He pushed into me as if we were cemented together. “I appreciate the offer,” I told him, avoiding eye contact, “but I need to get my dog home.”

 
“Your dog’s fine where he is; no need to worry about him.”

  This biker wasn’t going to take my refusal lightly.

  The door opened and someone else came into the tavern. I glanced over my shoulder, thinking, hoping, it was someone in law enforcement. No such luck. To my surprise, it was Nick Schwartz. For one wild moment I wondered if he’d followed me, which was a ridiculous thought. He couldn’t have possibly known where I was headed or that I was even leaving the inn.

  Right away Nick’s gaze shot straight to mine and our eyes locked. He frowned and I watched as his shoulders stiffened and then rose as he exhaled.

  He didn’t say anything, but came to stand directly between me and the biker. He crossed his arms with his bulging muscles just the way he had Thursday morning when he’d glared at me from his porch. His look had intimidated me, but I had the feeling this biker wasn’t as easily put off.

  “The lady’s with me,” Nick said.

  The other biker went nose-to-nose with Nick.

  Someone killed the music, and the lack of sound was even more deafening than the blaring music had been. It seemed like the entire tavern froze. Several men, dressed in the same leather vests with similar patches, scooted back their chairs and came to stand behind Gray Beard. It was a dozen or more of them against Nick.

  I peeked around his back and bit my lower lip. “Listen, guys,” I said, hoping to avoid a confrontation. “I’m here for the dog. I don’t even like the taste of beer.”

  The bartender, not looking for a brawl to rip apart his establishment, spoke first.

  “We don’t want any trouble here, Lucifer.”

  Lucifer? Holy mother of cheesecake, the biker’s name was Lucifer. Not a good sign.

  The biker and Nick continued their stare-down; neither moved, and it didn’t look like either man drew oxygen. Or maybe that was me who’d stopped breathing.

  The bartender disappeared and returned in short order, holding Rover. “Take your dog,” he said, handing Rover over to me.

  Jo Marie’s dog looked up at me with blurry eyes. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. I had a horrible feeling a dog with a hangover wasn’t going to be a pretty sight.

  I gingerly stepped around Nick and gently placed my hand on his arm. He didn’t tear his eyes away from Gray Beard. “I’ll be going now,” I said, doing my best to hide my nervousness.

  “I appreciate the offer for a drink,” I continued, hoping to defuse the situation with Lucifer. “Perhaps another time.”

  “There won’t be another time,” Nick said, his eyes focused on the other man as intently as a laser beam.

  “Yeah, probably not,” I murmured, eager to make my escape. Stepping sideways to get around the men gathered behind Lucifer, I added, “I mean, it isn’t every day Rover decides to run away from home and get drunk.”

  For whatever reason, the bikers seemed to find that comment amusing, and I heard a number of chuckles.

  A path cleared as I started toward the door. It was like I was Moses parting the Red Sea. I held Rover close and kept my head and my eyes lowered. My one comfort was knowing Nick walked directly behind me, following me outside. Thankfully Gray Beard decided to remain with his drinking buddies.

  As he followed me out of the tavern, Nick didn’t say a word, which only added to the tension.

  As soon as we were outside, I felt the need to break the silence. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I used my key to unlock my car.

  Nick inclined his head, which I suppose was his way of acknowledging my appreciation. He opened the rear passenger door for me and I set Rover in the backseat. Rover immediately put his head down and closed his eyes. If dogs got headaches, I had to believe Rover had a hummer.

  Not knowing what more to say, I stood awkwardly beside the driver’s door and studied my key fob.

  “Take the dog home.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I will. I just wanted to say…”

  “No thanks are necessary.” He reached up as if to stroke the side of my face and then seemed to change his mind.

  I actually felt myself leaning toward him, wanting his touch. Thankfully, I caught myself in time. “I hope I didn’t ruin your night.”

  “You didn’t.”

  His look held mine captive and my breathing went shallow. Something was happening between us. He’d been so unfriendly, but there’d been a shift and I wasn’t sure if it was with him or with me.

  “I hope Elvis is inside the house,” I said, having a hard time getting the words out. “I…the fireworks must have frightened Rover.”

  “Is he your dog?” He broke eye contact to look onto the backseat where I’d set Rover.

  “He belongs to a friend. I’m watching him for her.”

  “You should have done a better job. Not sure how you’re going to explain how he got drunk.” His voice was harsh, unforgiving. To be fair, he was probably right, but I didn’t appreciate his tone. I’d learned my lesson.

  “Listen, Bud, I’ve never had a dog. My family only had cats.”

  Nick cracked a smile. “Bud?” he repeated. “Did you just call me Bud?”

  “Maybe.” I bit my lower lip again. He must think me an idiot. “Okay, yeah, I did.”

  He did touch my cheek then, running his index finger down the side of my face to my jaw. “You better go take care of the dog.”

  “Right,” I said and took off, determined to get back to the relative safety of the inn.

  As I backed out of the space and turned around, I caught sight of Nick facing his vehicle, his arm raised and braced against the roof, his head hanging. That car had been in the parking lot earlier when I’d arrived, which meant Nick had been sitting inside, waiting, for what I could only guess.

  Something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. My first thought was to leave, but then I found I couldn’t. Putting the car in reverse, I made a U-turn and drove back to where Nick was parked.

  Rolling down my window, I asked, “You okay?”

  At the sound of my voice, he lifted his head, and I saw that sweat beaded his forehead. “Leave,” he ordered gruffly. “Leave me alone.”

  And so I did.

  Reluctantly.

  My one day and night away from the inn was just the break I needed. For the first time in weeks, I felt completely unencumbered with responsibilities. Don’t misunderstand me. I love the Rose Harbor Inn, but I needed this time away. I didn’t realize how badly until I was with my family and friends. It’d been far too long.

  Having Emily take over for me was a huge relief. I knew she’d do a good job and she did, well, other than that rather unfortunate mishap with Rover. Yes, she told me about it. She also mentioned that Nick Schwartz had more or less rescued her from unwanted attention. I wish I knew more about him. Dana found out what she could, but I felt there was much more to the story and far more to the man. From what she’d told me, I knew Emily felt the same.

  I spent the Fourth with my family, soaking up the fun and the laughter. Karen had always been my favorite cousin, and we stayed up and chatted until the wee hours of the morning. Her husband, Richard, had a friend named Greg who stopped by before the barbecue. He’d intended to stay for only a few minutes, to catch up with Richard and then head out to meet other friends at Lake Washington. Greg had so much fun with our little backyard event that he ended up staying with us and didn’t leave until almost midnight.

  I later learned he was single but got no more details. I assumed he was divorced. Just before Karen and I ended our conversation and headed to bed, Richard sought me out to ask if I’d be interested in dating Greg. It was a heady question.

  I’d dated some since Mark had left Cedar Cove, but the truth was that my heart wasn’t in it. The guys I went out with didn’t stir my interest. As difficult as this was to admit, the only reason I dated was because I had something to prove to myself. I refused to sit at home and pine for Mark. Sheer determination to push him out of my head is what drove me, although it did little go
od. It’d been weeks since the last communication from Mark.

  Weeks.

  Still, that one postcard, that tiny sliver of hope, had taken root and he remained in the forefront of my thoughts.

  “Jo Marie? No pressure. It’s just that Greg mentioned what fun he’d had with you and that he’d like to see you again.”

  “I don’t know,” I’d told Richard. I hated to be ambiguous, but it was the truth. I liked Greg. We’d hit it off and a good part of my enjoyment of the holiday had been talking with him. The guy had a wicked sense of humor and he said the most hilarious things. Richard made a killer barbecue sauce that was spicy. When Greg bit into one of the spare ribs, he’d coughed and sputtered and then announced, “Food is not supposed to hurt.”

  I laughed so hard I snorted lemonade out of my nose. It felt good to laugh. Really, wonderfully good.

  “No pressure,” Rich reminded me.

  “No pressure,” I repeated, and then after a deep sigh I nodded and told Rich to give Greg my phone number.

  Now that I was back at the inn, I realized I hoped to hear from Greg. I couldn’t live with my life on hold; in fact, I refused to let that happen.

  My poor Rover was suffering from the effects of his hangover. Otherwise, I was sure he would have alerted me to the fact that someone was at the door.

  The doorbell chimed and Rover barely lifted his head. It looked as if the very sound caused him pain. He might even have put his paws over his ears, but I couldn’t be certain.

  Emily was in the kitchen. “You want me to get that?”

  “Please.” I was in my office and had just finished paying bills. If I wasn’t needed, I’d prefer to stay exactly where I was.

  Emily returned in just a few moments. “It’s someone from the military. Milford or Millingford. I didn’t quite catch the name. He’s in the living room,” she said. “Would you like me to serve you coffee or tea?”

  I certainly didn’t expect Emily to wait on me; however, I had the feeling I was going to need something stronger than iced tea or a double espresso. “I’m fine, but I’ll ask the lieutenant colonel.”

  Emily focused her gaze on me, showing concern. “You okay?”