Sweet Tomorrows

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Sweet Tomorrows Page 12

by Debbie Macomber


  When their lips touched, Nick initially felt token resistance from her but it didn’t last long. Then her arms were around his neck, her fingers in his hair as she opened to him like a flower in the noonday sun. He should have known one taste of her would never be enough, and each subsequent kiss grew more urgent. His need for her was insatiable. His hands framed her face, his fingers gripping hold of her hair, angling her mouth to his as he devoured her in a series of kisses that threatened to overwhelm all sense of self-preservation.

  He kissed her again and again until the water started to run cold. A cold shower was exactly what he needed at this point, but not Emily. It took him a moment to gather the resolve to reach for the faucet and turn it off. Leaning his forehead against hers, he drew in several stabilizing breaths as he battled for control.

  Once the water was off, Emily started to shiver again. He grabbed a clean towel and helped her out before wrapping her in its thick warmth.

  “Take off these wet things and I’ll get you something warm to put on.”

  Taking a towel for himself, he wiped his face and started out of the room.

  Emily grabbed hold of his hand, stopping him.

  He turned back, his eyes questioning.

  “Nick…” she said urgently and then paused as if not knowing what more to say.

  He responded with a weak smile, and because he couldn’t resist he leaned down and kissed her again.

  I’ve had a change of heart when it comes to Nick Schwartz. He went from being a zero to a hero in a single heartbeat when he delivered Emily back to the inn.

  Just when I was about to panic, wondering what had happened to my summer boarder, I heard from Nick. Emily was with him at urgent care; she’d fallen and twisted her ankle. Nick had found her, gotten her dry and warm, and then taken her to a local walk-in clinic, although from what he said, she wasn’t walking.

  An hour after he called to give me the news, Nick delivered Emily to the inn. She arrived with a pair of crutches and a bandaged ankle. Instead of letting her struggle up the porch steps, Nick lifted her into his arms and carted her up the stairs as if she were the lightest of loads. With tenderness and care, he set her on the sofa and scooted the ottoman over to elevate her bandaged foot.

  When he stepped back, I saw the way he studied her as if she were a priceless work of art. I’d seen that look in a man’s eyes before. Twice. With my husband, Paul, and again in Mark just before he left me.

  I knew what it meant. The intensity of it helped explain Nick’s hot-and-cold behavior toward Emily. He didn’t want to care but he did and the strength of his feelings, the strength of his need, was alien to him. He seemed uncomfortable with these emotions but felt powerless to do anything about it.

  He spoke before I realized he was talking to me. “Sorry,” I said. “What was that?”

  He narrowed his eyes as though worried I wouldn’t take proper care of her. “Emily needs to stay off that foot for the next few days,” he said. “Is that going to be a problem? I know her room is on the third floor.”

  “Nick…”

  He ignored Emily, turning to face me and presenting her with his back.

  I hid a smile. “No problem, she can take a room on the bottom level for the time being.”

  “Good. I’ll check on her later.”

  I had a strong feeling he’d be checking on me, too, to make sure Emily had whatever she needed.

  Nick left before I could ask any other questions, so I looked to Emily to supply the answers.

  “What in the world happened?”

  “I twisted my ankle.”

  “Well, duh, I can see that. I meant what happened between you and Nick?”

  “What do you mean?” Emily asked, playing dumb.

  “Come on, girl. Where’s the disgruntled, surly man you’ve been telling me about?” Emily couldn’t possibly be blind to the look he’d given her. It was as if she was an ice-cream cone on the hottest day of summer.

  Her eyes widened and her face blossomed with color. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  So that was the way it was going to be. I arched my brows so she’d know I wasn’t fooled.

  “He found me…and I was in pretty bad shape stuck in the rain, chilled to the bone…and he took care of me and everything.”

  “It’s the and everything I want to know about.”

  Emily pressed her hands on her cheeks. “I’d rather not talk about that, if you don’t mind.”

  I couldn’t hold back my amusement. “All right, all right, I won’t bug you with questions. I can’t help but be curious.”

  Emily closed her eyes and relaxed against the back of the sofa with her bandaged ankle extended.

  “Are you in much pain?”

  “Not now. The doctor prescribed pain meds, which Nick insisted on picking up for me after we left the clinic. I’m sorry for being such a hassle.”

  “You’re no hassle.”

  “I mean, having to take the room on the bottom floor.”

  “No worries. I only have one set of guests coming this week and I’ll put them on the second floor.”

  “I appreciate it,” she said, yawning.

  Seeing that the events of the morning had worn her out, I collected an afghan and tucked it around her and lit a small fire in the fireplace. The high temperature for the day was only going to get to the mid-sixties, but we needed the rain and the break from the heat was welcome.

  When I checked on Emily a few minutes later, I saw that she was sound asleep. No doubt the pain meds had something to do with that. She slipped sideways and I lifted her leg and placed it on the sofa and covered her with the blanket.

  About an hour later Nick returned. He had Emily’s running clothes, freshly laundered and folded. I met him at the door and invited him inside.

  He looked toward the living room, where Emily remained asleep. “How’s she doing?” he asked, his gaze warming when it landed on her.

  “She’s been asleep almost from the moment you brought her back.”

  He looked away. “I don’t mind telling you she was in bad shape when I found her. Hypothermia had set in. Do you have any idea how long she was out there?”

  “None, sorry, I didn’t hear her leave.”

  He nodded, accepting my answer. I noticed how his eyes wandered back to her with that same intense tenderness.

  “Would you like to come inside for coffee?” I hoped he would accept, because I was full of questions. If Emily wouldn’t answer me, then perhaps Nick would.

  “Another time,” he said. “I should get back to the house. I’ll check on the patient later.”

  He was out the door when I stopped him. “Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  I had one arm on the frame. “I’m glad you were there.”

  He cracked a smile and nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”

  —

  Seeing that the sky was gray and the day gloomy, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to do some baking. I had a new recipe for cranberry scones that I wanted to try and another for an egg casserole. Both were out of the oven before I noticed Emily was awake.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” I teased.

  She stretched her arms above her head. “How long was I out?”

  “A couple hours at least.”

  “That long? Oh dear. I was supposed to meet Dana later this afternoon. She had a few listings she wanted to show me.”

  “No worries. Dana called to verify the appointment and I explained you wouldn’t be able to meet her.”

  “Thanks. I’ll reschedule later.”

  “How about a cup of tea and a fresh scone?” I asked.

  She sighed and awkwardly transferred her leg from the sofa to the ottoman. “That sounds divine.”

  While I was in the kitchen, she grabbed hold of the crutches and uneasily made her way into the bathroom, pausing when she saw her running clothes in a neatly folded pile just off the foyer. It was almost as if she’d
forgotten she had on one of Nick’s T-shirts and his sweatpants, which were huge on her.

  “Nick was here?”

  “He stopped by earlier. You were sleeping and he said he’d check on you later.”

  “Oh.” She looked away as if afraid I’d read more than warranted into her response.

  I wasn’t sure how to interpret that small sound, whether she was happy Nick was coming by or if she dreaded seeing him again. I tended to think she wasn’t sure herself.

  Once the tea was brewed and Emily was comfortable on the sofa once more, I carried in a tray with the pot and two of the scones, still warm from the oven. I poured and handed her the cup.

  She stared down into the hot liquid as if reading her future in the tea leaves and then said, “Do you remember when I first arrived how you mentioned that the inn was a special place?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “Can you tell me what you meant by that?”

  “Sure.” I explained how Paul had come to me that night and what he’d told me.

  Emily listened intently, but she didn’t seem to fully understand.

  I settled back in my chair, Rover at my feet, and crossed my legs. “As you can imagine, I was skeptical about this dream myself. I mean, think about it. I wasn’t sure if in my grief I had conjured up Paul—and you need to remember that at the time I was half asleep. It was only natural to wonder if the entire episode had been a figment of my imagination.” I didn’t know how best to explain what the death of a loved one does to a person. It was as though with that one person gone, the entire world is suddenly empty.

  “I’d have questions, too,” Emily agreed.

  “Then my first two guests arrived. Josh Weaver was a construction project manager who’d been raised in Cedar Cove. He booked a room at the inn when he’d gotten word that his stepfather was dying. From what I learned, there was no love lost between the two men. Josh’s mother died when he was in his teens and Richard had made Josh’s life miserable in a multitude of ways.

  “Unfortunately, Josh was Richard’s only family. His stepfather’s only son had died and Richard deeply resented the fact that it was his natural son who was gone and not Josh. I never got the full story of what happened between the two men, but from what I could read between the lines there was plenty of bitterness and resentment.”

  Emily frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me. Are you saying that his stepdad got better? Is that the healing you’re explaining?”

  “No, as a matter of fact Richard died, but before he passed, Josh and his stepfather made peace. Josh was with the older man when he died, and there was real forgiveness and love between them, something that seemed impossible only a few days earlier.”

  Emily eyes brightened with unshed tears. “They made peace with each other. That’s an amazing story.” From her look I could tell that what had happened between Josh and his stepfather had touched her heart.

  “Healing comes in different forms,” I explained, feeling inadequate. From the first moment Emily had arrived I sensed that she, too, had come with a burdened heart. She’d chosen not to disclose it to me and I respected her privacy. In sharing the story of Josh and Richard I hoped that she’d find whatever she needed to find a path to healing.

  “That’s just one incident, though,” Emily said, as if uncertainty had already started to filter in.

  “I can’t say I blame you for having questions,” I said, countering her skepticism. “It seemed pretty convenient that my very first guest would have this amazing story of forgiveness. You can talk to him about it if you want. He’s married now, to a girl who once lived next door, and they live right here in Cedar Cove. The thing is that very same weekend I had another guest. Abby came into town for the first time in ten years for her brother’s wedding. I discovered that the first winter after high school Abby was in a terrible car accident with her best friend, who was killed. Angela’s parents blamed her for their daughter’s death and worse, Abby blamed herself, although no one was at fault.”

  “What happened?”

  “Abby went to visit the parents. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that must have been. Fortunately, they were ready to look beyond their pain and give her the forgiveness she needed.”

  “Thank goodness, that poor girl.”

  “It was like Abby was a different person following the visit to her friend’s parents. She’d been set free.”

  Emily went still and quiet. “She’d been healed.”

  “Exactly. After my first two guests both experienced life-changing weekends, my skepticism vanished, and since that time I’ve trusted that there’s a special healing quality that comes from this inn. I can’t explain it; I don’t even try.”

  “You’ve had dozens of guests since you took over the inn.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Does every single one of them receive some form of healing?”

  “I don’t know. Most of the pain my guests carry they keep to themselves. I’m a stranger and they would be uncomfortable unburdening their troubles onto someone they barely know. The stories I’m aware of are ones I’ve learned by accident, but I will tell you this. They are powerful. I no longer question that dream.” I paused, letting Emily reach her own conclusion. It was difficult to hold back from telling her of other healings, some that I felt were almost miraculous. Perhaps it was wrong of me to take a certain pride in this inn and what happens here, especially since I had very little to do with events that had helped change lives.

  My cell rang. I’d set it down in the office next to my business line and I hopped up. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.”

  “Of course.”

  I left Emily sipping her tea and rushed in to catch my phone, suspecting it was Greg, and I was right.

  “Hey,” I said, pleased to hear from him. He had a deep voice that soothed and fascinated me.

  “Hey,” he returned. “Just checking to make sure we’re still on for tomorrow night.”

  “I’m planning on it.”

  “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I called because I wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”

  I don’t think my smile could have gotten any bigger. “I like the sound of your voice, too.” He’d reached out to me every night since our outing on Saturday to Mount Rainier. One evening we talked for two hours. Two hours, which I found unbelievable. I’ve never had so much to say to anyone that demanded a two-hour conversation—well, other than Paul.

  “You having a good day?”

  “Yes, but Emily isn’t. She tripped on her run this morning and wrenched her ankle. Some interesting developments on that plane,” I said, lowering my voice, not wanting it to carry into the other room. “I detect a bit of a romance blooming between her and the owner of that house she’s interested in buying.”

  Settling down in my office chair, I leaned back and relaxed. As if he understood this might be a lengthy conversation, Rover wandered in and sat down at my feet.

  I’ll be the first one to admit I’m not a good patient. By the end of the following day I was both frustrated and impatient. Before dinnertime I was more than ready to toss those blasted crutches into the cove and be done with them. My underarms ached, and getting up and down from a seated position twisted me into contortions a gymnast would have trouble doing.

  This entire day had been a nightmare from beginning to end. The only bright spot, and I hesitate to admit it, had been…Nick. He’d stopped by late in the afternoon to check on me. Our conversation, with Jo Marie in the other room, felt stilted and uncomfortable, as both of us were aware she was within earshot. Nick was uneasy. I knew being at the inn in daylight with other people around was way out of his comfort zone.

  I wasn’t sure how to act around him, seeing that I’d completely embarrassed myself when he kissed me. If anyone was handing out blue ribbons in a kissing contest, Nick would win hands down. I’d never meant to respond the way I did, but then I couldn’t help myself. It was happeni
ng again…I was falling for this guy, and after two disastrous relationships, I could almost predict the future. Experience had taught me it wouldn’t be unicorns and rainbows, either.

  I should tell Nick the truth about myself right now and be done with it. He had a right to know before our relationship went any further. Dread filled me. I liked this feeling of being wanted, and selfishly, I wanted it to continue. It’d been a long time since a man made me feel the way Nick did.

  For most of the night I’d been awake and restless. Jo Marie noticed first thing in the morning and assumed I’d been in pain. Yes, my ankle ached, but what kept me staring at the ceiling until the wee hours of the morning was the memory of Nick’s kisses. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good they’d been.

  Right away my mind started making up excuses not to tell him the truth about me. It was personal, private. Intimate. But to not tell him could lead to problems in the future. More heartache. I’d dealt with enough of that to last me a lifetime. Surely two broken engagements were all the evidence required.

  The kissing should never have happened. It must have been the pain I was experiencing. Or the cold. All I can say is that I wasn’t myself, because sure as I’m sitting here, leg propped up and bandaged, and high on pain meds, I know for a fact no one man’s kisses could be that good.

  “How are you feeling?” Nick asked, standing in the middle of Jo Marie’s living room. Although I offered, he refused to take a seat. He paced the area in front of the sofa where I sat as if he would rather be anyplace but here. My guess was he felt as unsettled about our exchange as I did.

  Good. All the better.

  Perhaps we could count it a fluke and move past what had happened. I was willing and I hoped Nick was, too. Only we couldn’t discuss any of it with Jo Marie a short distance away.

  “Emily?”

  The question. He wanted me to answer the question. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember what he’d asked. Oh, it was about my ankle.

 

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