Sweet Tomorrows

by Debbie Macomber

  “It’s pretty much a mess right now.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be careful and watch my step.”

  How eager she sounded. “All right, but I have a long way to go to make this place presentable.”

  “I consider myself warned.” Her eyes flashed with excitement as he led her into the house.

  Nick held open the kitchen door for her to precede him and then followed her inside. Halfway into the room, she paused, looking around, seeming to take in every detail.

  “It’s huge.” Her voice filled with awe.

  Nick nodded. “My grandmother insisted on a large kitchen, and she needed it. She canned food from their garden for the winter and fruit from the trees. While they had a formal dining room, she wanted space enough for the family to gather together for the evening meal. Dad told me she was a real stickler about them eating as a family every night. That was a priority.”

  “Too many families have abandoned the habit these days,” Emily commented as she continued to survey the room and ran her hand over the top of the cabinet he was about to install. “New cabinets?”

  “The old ones were in pretty bad shape.”

  “These are perfect. You chose well.”

  “Thanks.”

  As if hard-pressed to take her eyes away from the kitchen, she asked, “Are there any rooms where you’ve completed the renovations?”

  He’d done quite a bit of work in the living room. “In here,” he said and showed her down the hallway to the living room. “The oak mantel around the fireplace is new, as are the curio cabinets beside it.”

  “Oh Nick,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is magnificent.”

  Her admiration pleased him.

  She turned to look at him. “You did this all on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  She sounded surprised, as if it seemed impossible one man could have completed the task.

  Her praise flattered him and he had to admit he was proud of the work he’d done on the house. “I did carpentry work from the time I was a teenager, working with my dad and…brother.”

  Her gaze flew to his and he saw sympathy in her eyes.

  She knew.

  Somehow she knew; he couldn’t help but wonder how much. Thankfully, she didn’t mention Brad, and he sure as hell wouldn’t, either. Nick didn’t want her pity. He didn’t invite it from her or anyone else. Seeing the compassion in her embarrassed him and he wanted her gone.

  “Thanks for the cookies,” he said, abruptly dismissing her.

  She blinked as if the change in his attitude confused her.

  “I need to get back to work,” he explained, hoping that would suffice. “I don’t have time to be giving tours.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  He could tell she was disappointed and he regretted that, but he wasn’t about to wade into a conversation regarding what happened to his brother. Not with Emily. Not with anyone.

  “Thanks for showing me around. You do beautiful work.” Her smile was forced, but her words felt genuine.

  He acknowledged the compliment with a swift nod, and when she hesitated, looking around her, he left the room, leaving her little option but to follow.

  “The inside of the house is much bigger than I imagined,” she said from behind him.

  Nick opened the outside door and offered her his hand. “Watch your step.”

  “I will.”

  She took his hand and he immediately felt a connection with her that was more than the physical. From the way her gaze shot to his, he knew she’d felt it, too. For an uncomfortably long moment they stared at each other, their hands clasped together as though forged into one.

  Emily slowly withdrew her hand. Nick dropped his as well as his brain went into overdrive in an effort to understand what had just happened. It didn’t seem possible that a simple touch could turn into a physical connection that went far beyond holding hands.

  It felt as if her heart had reached out to his, as though in recognizing his pain and loss she’d revealed her own. That brought up the question of what had happened in her life. Had she, too, suffered horrific loss? While there was this undeniable connection, and recognition of shared loss, there was more…and it was physical. Nick felt intense longing and desire, both of which he hadn’t experienced in over a year. And when it came, it hit with a punch. He nearly took a step back, retreating at the unexpectedness of it.

  Over the years Nick had been in plenty of relationships. He was nearing thirty and had had his fair share of women. Not a single one had affected him to the extent Emily had. He didn’t know what was happening, the why of it, the reason. The one thing he did know was that now wasn’t a good time for him to get involved, not when he was dealing with all this personal crap. He was in no shape, emotionally or otherwise, to have a woman in his life. And yet he wanted her the way a starving man looks at a Thanksgiving feast. The shock of it nearly caused him to gasp aloud.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again,” she said, her gaze burning into his.

  “Maybe.” He didn’t encourage her one way or the other. He wasn’t sure being anywhere close to her was a good idea, especially in light of what he was feeling. At the same time, he worried he wouldn’t be able to stay away.

  “You know,” she continued, “sometimes at night if I’m awake…I could meet you on the porch.”

  Not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. The two of them alone, sitting in the dark. All he could think about was holding her in his arms, kissing her, loving her, burying his body in hers.

  “Nick?”

  He shook the thought of her body wrapped around his from his mind. “Wouldn’t count on it,” he said, unsure if it was possible to ever return to the inn while she was there.

  “Oh, I hoped—”

  He cut her off. “I appreciate the thought. That’s private property and I shouldn’t be there in the first place.”

  Right away she smiled, as if discounting his concerns. “I mentioned seeing you and Elvis to Jo Marie this morning and she said she had no problem with it. You’re welcome at any time.”

  “It’s a bad idea.” In more ways than she knew.

  She blinked as if his words had wounded her. “Okay…”

  They stood only a few feet apart, staring at each other.

  “I should probably go.”

  He nodded. Nick needed her gone before he did something stupid like pull her into his arms and hold her, let her absorb his pain, free him of the agony he had brought into his life and into his family.

  “Yeah, I’m busy.”

  She nodded and her eyes grew sad. Without him saying a word, she noted the shift in his mood. “Would you rather I not run on your land?”

  “No, go ahead. It isn’t a problem.” He reached for a hammer in order to give the impression he had work to do and her chitchat had delayed him.

  She grinned then. “Good thing, or I’d ask for my cookies back.”

  He smiled, having completely forgotten she’d brought him cookies.

  “I appreciate you letting me see the inside of the house. It’s really beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Not wanting to continue the conversation, he returned to the kitchen. When he glanced out the window, he saw Emily bending down and talking to Elvis. She looked up then, as if feeling his gaze on her. Their eyes met and she waved.

  He didn’t wave back.

  My first date with Greg couldn’t have gone better. The Saturday following the Fourth of July we drove up to Paradise on Mount Rainier in the national park and had lunch at the rustic lodge. The ride took more than two hours as we stopped at a winery along the way. It also gave us a chance to talk and become comfortable with each other.

  I liked Greg. In fact, I liked him a lot and his dry wit had me laughing out loud. I don’t remember the last time I actually laughed the deep belly kind that makes it hard to breathe. In addition, we seemed to share a lot of common life experiences. We were the same age, born in the same month.<
br />
  We’d both lost our spouses, Greg’s wife to brain cancer. Unless someone has suffered through the death of a spouse, they can’t know the depth of that pain. No matter how sympathetic or compassionate one might be, only those who’ve walked that rut-filled path fully understand. It’s like every morning you relive that loss. It never goes away completely. Yes, the world continues on, but it’s not the same. Never the same.

  Other than a brief conversation about his wife, Julie, and my Paul, we didn’t linger over our losses. Neither of us had children, but it was understood that we were both family oriented. God willing, I would have children one day.

  Greg worked for Microsoft in their educational division and had been involved in a large project with World Vision, bringing computers into schools in Kenya. The year before, he’d traveled there to deliver and set up the systems. He spoke enthusiastically about his African experiences. He’d gone believing he was helping these kids by bringing them into the twenty-first century. Instead he came away feeling they had blessed him. Working with World Vision, he told me, had helped him deal with his wife’s death.

  For the first time in a year, since Mark had left Cedar Cove—left me—I felt completely at ease, completely relaxed. It was as if the worries I’d carried with me all these months vanished for those few hours.

  We ate an enjoyable lunch at the Paradise Inn, wandered the hiking trails up to the tree line, and then headed back to Cedar Cove. All in all it was a spirit-lifting afternoon.

  When Greg dropped me off at the inn, he paused, his gaze holding mine. It almost seemed like he’d forgotten to breathe, because after an awkward moment, he let out a huge sigh and said, “I had a great time.”

  “I did, too.” I thought for a minute he was about to kiss me, but then he pulled back as if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I wasn’t sure, either. I wanted him to, and at the same time I didn’t think I was ready for that small intimacy.

  “I’d like to see you again.” His eyes remained locked on mine.

  This whole dating thing unnerved me. I wasn’t good at it and I knew Greg felt the same way.

  Before I could answer, Greg chuckled and shook his head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this I’m getting flustered. I really meant it when I said I had a great time.”

  “I really meant it, too,” I told him.

  “Then you’d be willing to go out with me again?”

  I nodded. “I’d enjoy that, Greg, I really would.”

  A smile blossomed across his face. “Great. I’ll call you later in the week, if that’s all right? I need to check on something, make sure I can get us a reservation.”

  “A reservation? Are you suggesting dinner?”

  He grinned. “Yes and no. It’s a bit more than a dinner date.”

  “You aren’t going to tell me?”

  “Nope. Hope you like surprises.”

  “Love them.”

  His smile grew even bigger. “All the better. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Perfect.” He backed away, almost as if it was hard for him to leave me.

  I stood on the porch and watched him walk to where he’d parked his car. Emily let Rover out and my dog stepped over to my side and kept his focus squarely on Greg. Rover didn’t bark. Instead, he studied Greg as if confused that there might be a man in my life other than Mark.

  I hadn’t mentioned Mark; I wasn’t sure what I would tell Greg about him. I didn’t know how to explain that I’d fallen in love after Paul and had lost him, too. When I told Greg that I hadn’t dated, it was the truth. Mark’s and my relationship hadn’t involved dating. He’d never taken me out to dinner or a movie. Our entire relationship revolved around his work at the inn. We’d kissed only a couple times, and while those kisses had rocked my world, they happened just before Mark headed to Iraq.

  My life had enough tragedy, enough complications, without piling it on this early in my relationship with Greg. When he left, Mark had insisted that I get on with my life. If he did return, and I desperately prayed that he would, then he couldn’t fault me for following his advice. I was moving on, and I hoped to do it with Greg.

  Emily was waiting for me when I came into the house, Rover at my heels. “So how was it?” she asked.

  “Really great.” A surge of happiness settled over me. It took a moment to identify the feeling, as it was foreign to me. The feeling was euphoric and left me slightly light-headed.

  “Wow, it must have been. Look at that huge smile you’re wearing.”

  I didn’t realize it showed or that it was obvious. “Greg is a great guy.”

  Having Emily stay at the inn as my boarder had some unexpected bonuses. Two guests had arrived while I was out and she took care of meeting them and escorting them to their rooms. If not for her willingness to fill in for me, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to spend the day with Greg. The inn was booked solid over the weekend. Guests had arrived on Friday and early Saturday. The last couple arrived mid-afternoon.

  “How was your day?” I asked once we’d settled on the porch with iced tea.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. I went running this afternoon.”

  She’d helped me serve breakfast, which I’d appreciated. Without my ever asking, Emily willingly pitched in to help with breakfast on the days when all the rooms were occupied. “Did you run through the orchard?” I asked.

  Emily grimaced and then nodded. “Yes. Elvis was there to greet me.”

  “Did you see Nick?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I was curious.

  “No, but the funny thing is,” Emily murmured, clenching her hand around the glass of iced tea, “I know he’s watching me.”

  “Watching you? Do you mean he comes outside and stands guard over his orchard? What? Is he afraid you’re going to pilfer green apples?”

  Emily laughed. “No. He looks at me from an upstairs window. I happened to catch sight of him the other morning and he’s been there every day since.”

  How strange.

  “I stop and pet Elvis and then Elvis follows me to the edge of the property. The dog never goes beyond the orchard and then returns to the house.”

  “Has Nick made any more late-night appearances at the inn?” I asked, not that Emily would know, unless she purposely set her alarm to check.

  “Not that I know of,” she said. “But I doubt that he has. He said he wouldn’t come again.”

  “That’s a shame,” I murmured. I doubted Emily fully understood what drew Nick to the inn. I felt certain it was the solace he felt here, the comfort, the healing Paul had promised and so many others had found as well. After what Dana had told us about the death of his brother, I knew what had drawn Nick to the inn. I didn’t mention it because Emily wouldn’t understand. The minute Emily told me that Nick walked around the inn’s property in the middle of the night and that he found peace here, I understood. Again and again I’d had my guests mention the same thing. If coming to the inn helped Nick deal with the loss of his brother, then I wouldn’t begrudge him that.

  “A shame?” Emily asked, cocking her head to one side with the question.

  “Yes, a shame; he’s welcome anytime.”

  “I told him that.”

  I read the disappointment in her eyes. “I know.”

  Emily set her empty glass aside. “I don’t think he wants to see me again. I think he might dread inadvertently having to talk to me.” She hesitated. “I have the feeling he figured out that I knew about the death of his brother; he’s afraid I’m going to pry and ask questions. I wouldn’t, but he doesn’t know that.”

  I was fairly certain Emily was on to something.

  After our short talk, I went into my room and took a hot shower. Because I was still full from our lunch and on an emotional high from my time with Greg, I decided to skip dinner.

  It was Emily’s turn to cook, so she made herself a chicken-salad sandwich and called it
good.

  I was in my room reading with Rover at my feet when my phone rang. Caller ID told me it was Greg. A sense of happy anticipation filled me, and my heart instantly zoomed to my throat.

  “Hey,” I said, doing my best to hide my eagerness to talk to him.

  “Hey,” he returned. “I hope you’re available next Saturday evening.”

  “I can be,” I told him and was again silently grateful for Emily’s presence at the inn. She’d repeatedly assured me she’d be able to look after my guests anytime I needed her to. Her own schedule was flexible, as she didn’t have any immediate plans. “You got the reservation?” I asked, wondering if he’d tell me or if he planned to keep it a surprise.

  “I did. Ever been to Blake Island and Tillicum Village?”

  My heart rate immediately accelerated. “No, but I’ve always wanted to go. You mean you got tickets?”

  “I did.”

  Tillicum Village is an Indian cultural experience with traditional songs and dance performed by the tribe along with a Chinook salmon dinner cooked over an alder wood fire. I’d heard about Tillicum Village for years, but it was one of those things I’d put off doing, waiting for the right opportunity.

  “Greg, this is something I’ve always wanted to do but never have.”

  “You’ll love it. It’s the quintessential Northwest experience.”

  “So I’ve heard. What time should I be ready?”

  “Six,” he told me. “I’ll bring a boat around to pick you up at the Cedar Cove dock. Normally, the boat sails from Seattle, but it will be far more convenient for us to leave from the cove.”

  “You have a boat?”

  “My brother does. He told me anytime I wanted to use it to give him a heads-up. I’ve been out with him dozens of times and never found a reason to ask until now. It seems my entire life got better as soon as I met you.”

  The things this man said were enough to melt my heart. “Thank you, Greg.”

  He paused. “I know it’s early in our relationship, Jo Marie, and I don’t want to say or do anything that…well, is too much too soon, but I want you to know how much today meant.”