Sweet Tomorrows

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Sweet Tomorrows Page 9

by Debbie Macomber


  We sat in the very chairs that Jo Marie and I so often did, overlooking the cove. The moon was bright, casting a warm glow across the still waters. The lights from the Bremerton shipyard sparkled in the distance. For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke. I looked skyward at the amazing display of stars. Nick’s attention was focused on the night sky as well. I thought I could see Venus, but then I wasn’t that knowledgeable about the position of the planets and wasn’t about to make a fool of myself by pretending I was.

  “It’s peaceful here,” Nick whispered.

  “It is,” I returned in a low voice, stretching out my legs and crossing my ankles. “I sometimes sit out here at night and think.” My hair was in total disarray and I was grateful for the dark. I wished I’d taken time to run a brush through it, but then I might have missed talking to Nick and seeing Elvis. We hadn’t gotten off to a good start, and I was hoping to correct that.

  “What do you think about?” he asked.

  I shrugged, unwilling to delve into anything too personal. “I don’t know: life, the future, nothing profound, just everyday stuff. What about you? What do you think about when you’re taking these nighttime strolls?”

  His response was the same as mine. “Nothing of importance. Mainly I walk in order to get tired enough to sleep.”

  “Working on the house doesn’t do that?”

  “Apparently not.”

  I suspected his mind was occupied with thoughts of his brother and the car crash that claimed the other man’s life. Nick didn’t bring up the accident and I didn’t pry; that wasn’t my nature. I had secrets of my own and wasn’t prone to spilling them out like some trashy talk-show guest for strangers to dissect.

  We both seemed caught up in the peacefulness of the moment, although I was well aware of the man sitting next to me. For reasons I didn’t want to examine more closely, I wanted to get to know Nick better. Yes, I was interested in his house, but it went beyond that. He intrigued me. The tragedy that had marked his life—the way he hid himself away and came out at night. The tragic hero had always attracted me. Strange, really, as it was highly unlikely I would be able to comfort or cure him.

  Elvis rested between us in almost the exact spot where Rover loved to curl up. His head was inclined toward me as if waiting for me to speak. Nick reached down and rested his hand on the dog’s head, ruffling his ears.

  “Did Elvis’s bark wake you?”

  “Not at all—well, maybe,” I confessed. “I read until nearly one. Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. Summers give me that opportunity,” I continued. If he suspected Elvis woke me, he might be tempted to avoid the inn, and I didn’t want him to do that, especially on my account.

  “You only read in the summers?” he questioned.

  “I’m a kindergarten teacher, and I don’t get much free time during the school year. I’ll be teaching in Cedar Cove Elementary come September, which is why I’m at the inn now, well, until I can find my own place.”

  “Where did you move from?”

  “Seattle.”

  “You looking to rent or buy?”

  “Buy.”

  “Any luck finding what you want?”

  “Not yet.” I avoided his gaze. “You plan on living in the house once you finish the renovations? I mean, you’re obviously living there now, but do you plan to stay?”

  He sat up a bit straighter, as if he didn’t like my question. “What makes you ask?”

  Fearing I wouldn’t be able to hide my interest, I shrugged as if I was simply making conversation. “No reason. It seems like a big house for just one person is all.” It suddenly occurred to me that he might not be living alone. I’d made the assumption, but I could be wrong. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, when he answered me.

  “It is a big house for just me,” he agreed, and then abruptly changed the subject, as if he wanted to avoid anything having to do with the house or his work there. “What made you apply for a job in Cedar Cove?”

  I brought my feet up to the edge of the chair and rested my chin on my bent knees. “I was here last summer with a…friend for his class reunion and fell in love with the town.”

  “A friend?”

  “Yes.” I had no intention of elaborating. “The inn is wonderful. I don’t remember being anywhere where I’ve felt more at—”

  “Peace?” he cut in.

  “Yes,” I returned, surprised he knew what I was about to say. “I feel at home here, although eventually I’ll need to move on. You know how it is when you’re in limbo, waiting and impatient. I don’t feel that, though. I need to find my own place and I will eventually, but for now I’m content.”

  “You’ll find a house,” he said confidently.

  I sincerely hoped he was right. I didn’t want to pressure him, but at the same time I was curious. “What brings you here to the inn, especially this time of the night?” This was the question he’d avoided earlier. Set back from the street by a long driveway, Nick had to go out of his way to walk the property.

  He took his time before speaking. “I sort of stumbled upon it during one of my midnight treks. For whatever reason, Elvis steered me here. I tugged on his leash, but he insisted we turn down the driveway. After a five-minute tug-of-war, I gave in and followed him. I don’t know what it is, but after walking around the inn I can find enough peace to go to sleep.”

  His words surprised me. Jo Marie had mentioned that the inn was a place of healing. I couldn’t help but wonder if that contentment I felt was part of what she’d told me. I knew practically nothing about Nick other than what Dana had shared.

  “We both found peace here, then.” Nick grinned, and the action transformed his face. He was a big man, and a handsome one, but his appeal increased tenfold with a smile. Rather than stare at him, I looked away, irritated with myself for being physically attracted to him. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let myself get drawn into another romantic relationship. But I had to admit Nick Schwartz tempted me.

  I released an involuntary yawn.

  “You’re tired. No need to keep me company.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Go. I’m feeling like I could sleep now myself.”

  He was right, I was tired, but at the same time I didn’t want our conversation to end. It was the dark, I suppose, the anonymity of it, sitting close to each other like this. There was a certain freedom in that. The moonlight made it more like we were in the shadows. I could just barely make out his features. It was the most comfortable Nick had been around me, and me with him.

  Despite what he said, he didn’t move and neither did I. The silence was companionable.

  “I apologize for the way I acted when I saw you on my property,” he said.

  This man was full of surprises. Like he’d done with me earlier, I shrugged off his apology.

  “If you want to run through the orchard, then feel free.”

  I had to struggle to keep from smiling, grateful he’d changed his mind. “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Elvis.”

  On hearing his name, the German shepherd lifted his head.

  Nick stood, ready to be on his way. “Come on, Elvis.”

  The pooch remained curled up.

  “Elvis.” The demand in Nick’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Doesn’t look like he’s quite ready yet. Stay a few minutes longer,” I urged.

  “You’re tired.”

  “I enjoy sitting here with you.” I probably shouldn’t have told him that, but Nick sat back down.

  “Are you going to mention my late-night walks to the owner?” he asked.

  “Probably.” Then I added, “But knowing Jo Marie, she won’t mind. And if she does, I’ll tell her you’re like a security guard, making sure we’re all safe.”

  “Thanks.” He seemed genuinely grateful.

  Seeing that I seemed to be in his good graces, I carefully broached the subject paramount on my mind. “It looks like the house renovations are coming along ni
cely.”

  “It’s coming.”

  “Is the progress taking longer than you want?”

  “Not necessarily. I’m not in any hurry. I’ve got the time and the patience.”

  “You don’t need to work?”

  He shrugged off the question. “My mother was an only child and I came into a small inheritance when her parents passed. I’m taking a year to whip the house into shape; once I’m finished, I’ll go back to construction.”

  “You’re a builder?”

  He nodded. “General contractor.”

  “So when you finish, what are your plans?”

  “For what? The future?” He spoke with an edge, as if my question challenged him.

  “For the house?” I pressed, unable to hide my curiosity.

  “Don’t know. I haven’t decided that yet.”

  As best I could, I hid my eagerness to suggest he sell it to me. “It’s a beautiful home. I’m sure it’ll make someone happy.”

  “It’s a good, solid house, that’s for sure. My grandfather built it with his own hands after he returned from World War Two. He and my grandmother married before he shipped out to fight in Europe. My grandmother worked at the Bremerton shipyard doing secretarial work until my grandfather returned. They both saved their money and decided to build their own home. He made sure there would be enough room for the family they intended to have.”

  “How many bedrooms are there?” I hoped my curiosity didn’t give me completely away. I’d already mentioned that I was house hunting.

  “Five. My dad was the middle child of the five. Three girls and two boys.”

  “Wow, five kids.”

  Nick nodded. “If I do sell it, and that’s no guarantee, I hope it’s to a young family.”

  This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Did your grandfather plant the orchard?” That was one of my favorite aspects of the property.

  “No, it was there long before. At one time the land was homesteaded. Several of the trees are over a hundred years old and don’t bear much fruit any longer. I plan to tear out the older, less productive trees and plant new ones, but that’s several months down the road.”

  The thought of losing any of those trees saddened me.

  “Now it really is time for me to go,” he said with a yawn. “I’m dead on my feet.”

  I was feeling much the same and unsuccessfully stifled my own yawn.

  “You’re serious about letting me run through your property?”

  “Sure,” he returned casually. “I was wrong to have made such a fuss earlier.” He stood, and without complaint Elvis joined him.

  I walked with him to the porch steps, covering my mouth as I yawned again. “It was good to talk to you, Nick.”

  “Yeah, you, too.”

  “Thanks…you know, for letting me use the orchard and everything else.”

  He waved off my appreciation and disappeared into the night.

  Standing on the top of the porch steps, I wrapped my arm around the white column. I watched Nick depart with Elvis leading the way. They reached the end of the driveway and both stopped, turned, and looked back.

  I felt a bit foolish standing there, and to cover my discomfort I gave a short wave. Nick didn’t return the gesture.

  He was an enigma. At every meeting he seemed to be in a different mood. His anger during our first encounter had infuriated me. Later, the night I’d collected Rover from the tavern, he’d been protective, willing to take on the very devil himself on my behalf. And tonight…tonight I saw a different side of him. He seemed vulnerable, open, and decent.

  Every meeting revealed a different layer of the man I was only beginning to get to know. Despite our awkward start, I liked Nick Schwartz, and that was reason enough for me to be concerned.

  Nick didn’t know what it was about Emily or how she’d found her way into his head. The woman was like a virus he couldn’t shake. Despite his best efforts to push all thoughts of her aside, he’d been unsuccessful. He’d hoped banning her from his property would be the end of this fascination he had for her. He’d been wrong. If anything, it was worse than it was before. Not seeing her tormented him more than watching her run through his property ever had.

  He found he missed seeing her the way a thirsty man missed a cold drink on a hundred-degree afternoon. Every morning he woke about the same time she once ran through the orchard. Every friggin’ morning. If that wasn’t bad enough, he went to the window as if he expected her to be there, as if she’d blatantly disregard his threat and trespass on his land. That wasn’t likely, seeing that he’d done nothing short of threatening prosecution if she set foot on his property again.

  Just when he thought he had a chance of getting her out of his head, what happened? She showed up at A Horse with No Name on the Fourth of July, when the place was crowded with bikers and other lowlifes. He’d gone there every night for a week, never having the courage to step inside, shaking at the thought of being out in public for fear of a panic attack. And then Emily had shown up and parked two cars down from him. He knew right away this wasn’t a place she should be, and he followed her inside. The minute he saw the biker approach her, he knew she was in trouble and instinct took over.

  Nick had no clue what he was thinking when he squared off with Lucifer, the VP of the Washington-based motorcycle club; he didn’t even want to guess. It’d been a crazy thing to do. He was lucky to walk away with his liver intact.

  Then, to top it off, Emily had found him wandering around the inn like some stalker. He’d made a complete ass of himself. The shock of seeing her rush out the kitchen door and confront him in the middle of the night had left him speechless.

  At first he hadn’t known what to think, and he assumed she was the inn’s proprietor. He should have realized she wasn’t from the sign that clearly stated Jo Marie Rose’s name. It was a relief to find out Emily was a guest. A boarder, she’d explained. He didn’t know B&Bs took boarders, and naturally it would be Emily, the one woman he would do anything to avoid. This was just the way his luck ran.

  Elvis certainly had taken a liking to her. Some guard dog the German shepherd had turned out to be. Normally, he wasn’t a dog who took kindly to strangers. What made his acceptance of Emily more compelling was the fact that the dog had been well trained to guard and protect. No one walked more than a few feet within Nick’s property without Elvis baring his teeth.

  Why Emily was the exception was beyond understanding. His one thought was that he’d unconsciously transmitted his own attraction to her onto the dog. Which sounded crazy, and he wondered if that was even possible.

  Sure as the sun rose, Nick was awake at about six, despite the fact that he’d had less than three hours of sleep. More by instinct than certainty, he walked over to the bedroom window that offered a view of the orchard. Predictably, Elvis was there, patiently waiting for Emily.

  She didn’t disappoint.

  Nick watched as Emily slowed her pace when she saw Elvis. She braced her hands on her knees and drew in several breaths while she spoke to the dog. Then she got down on one knee and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Seeing her tenderness with Elvis, Nick stepped away from the window, angry and frustrated.

  It wasn’t until he brewed a cup of coffee and was ready to start his day that he realized he was jealous. Yes, jealous of a dog. A man couldn’t go much lower than that.

  —

  By noon, Nick had worked up a sweat. He had sawhorses set up on the stripped kitchen floor. The installation of the new cabinets was almost finished. The next step would be the countertops and then the floor. He wanted marble for the countertops but couldn’t justify the expense, even with his contractor’s discount.

  He was about to stop for lunch when Elvis let out a loud bark. It wasn’t one of warning or protection. It was a happy, welcoming bark. Nick set aside the measuring tape and left the kitchen to investigate.

  It was Emily. Right away his pulse accelerated. He met her on the porch.
/>   “Hey,” he said, fighting to disguise how pleased he was to see her.

  “Hey.” She seemed nervous and abruptly thrust out the plate in her hands. “I baked cookies this morning.”

  She appeared to be offering them to him. He blinked and looked at the plate, which was piled high with what looked like oatmeal-raisin.

  “They’re for you,” she insisted, gesturing for him to take them.

  “Why?” He tucked his hands in his back pockets in an effort to resist touching her.

  She moistened her bottom lip, something he’d noticed she did when nervous. After their early-morning discussion he was surprised by the awkwardness between them. He could sense her hesitation and could feel his own, although he couldn’t explain it.

  “It’s my way of thanking you for letting me run on the property again. I love the orchard, and running under the trees offers me shade.”

  “No need to thank me.”

  “I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. Now, are you going to accept the cookies or are you going to leave me standing here holding this plate, feeling foolish?”

  He grinned and took the cookies, which he had to admit looked damn good.

  “I hope you like oatmeal-raisin.”

  “I’m not picky when it comes to homemade cookies.” He stared down at the plate, breathing in the warm scent of oatmeal and raisins. “Like I said, you didn’t need to do this. It isn’t hurting me any to let you run through the orchard, and Elvis seems to have taken a liking to you.”

  “I like him, too. He’s a wonderful dog.”

  Anyone else who dared to cross his land wasn’t likely to agree, but he didn’t mention that.

  “I missed seeing Elvis.”

  “He missed you, too.” As Nick had. The view he had of her each morning, her body slim and perfect, with her arms and legs tan and athletic, got to him. She stirred his blood, reminding him he was alive. He hadn’t thought that was possible after last year, after the death of his brother.

  “Would you like one?” he asked, setting the plate down on the folding table he’d placed on the porch.

  “No thanks. What I would like is to see what you’re doing in the house…that is, if you don’t mind showing me.” Her beautiful dark eyes were wide and hopeful.

 

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