Harbor of the Heart

by Katherine Spencer

  Claire stood near him and rested her hand lightly on his shoulder. “Then don’t fight anymore, Nolan. Just let it go.”

  He looked up at her and shook his head, as if he couldn’t comprehend what she was suggesting. “But how can I do that? Just walk away, you mean? After all this time? I could never live with the . . . the sheer injustice of it. The best idea I ever had, stolen from me. He may as well have broken into my house and taken everything I own. I trusted that man. I had the idea; he had the funds to invest. He signed an agreement, fifty-fifty. Then he closed down our factory, left the place mired in debt. Wiggled out of that somehow and started up again, with a whole new name. A whole new product, he claimed. Claiming all the profits for himself now. Only it was my product, my idea, my invention, with only a few tiny alterations. Don’t you see how wrong that is?”

  Claire considered this charge a moment. The former partner had, indeed, robbed Nolan. But he hadn’t taken everything. Claire already knew that, though Nolan couldn’t seem to see it.

  “Of course I do,” she assured him. “I know what he did was very wrong—”

  “Wrong?” Nolan broke in. “I’ll say it was wrong. I invested a lot of personal savings in that company and lost it all. I’d taken loans against my house, so I lost that to the bank. I was so distracted and overwhelmed, I couldn’t function at all at the university . . . I suppose I lost my temper a few times when this was pointed out to me,” he added more quietly. “So there went my job. And my wife—who never had much faith in me, I must say—decided she’d had enough, too.” He heaved a sigh, practically out of breath from his recitation.

  It was a long, sad story; Claire could never argue with that point. But Nolan had the power to end it. He didn’t have to wait for battling lawyers to do that for him.

  “You’ve endured great losses, Nolan. No question. Almost like the book of Job,” she conceded. “But you have been left with something—the most valuable thing of all. Your imagination. Your amazing gift to come up with new ideas, new inventions. No one can ever take that from you,” she insisted.

  Nolan stared at her and let out a frustrated sigh. “You don’t understand. This was . . . different. Highly applicable to all kinds of manufacturing. Not just some dime-a-dozen gadget you see advertised on TV.”

  “Perhaps. But don’t you see? The longer you chase him, the more he robs you. This lawsuit saps your precious time and energy. I understand what you’re feeling, Nolan. I really do,” she insisted. “But if you wanted to walk down a road, is it best to face forward or keep looking back?” she asked, trying to appeal to his logical side. “That’s what you’re doing. Staring backward at something you can’t change, when you should be looking forward, figuring out where you want to go next.”

  Nolan stopped to consider her words for a moment, his mouth a tight line. “That’s well and good to say. But how can I live with myself knowing I allowed this man to cheat me? How can my colleagues ever respect me again?”

  Claire was quiet a moment, considering his questions. “And Fiona? Isn’t that who you’re thinking of?”

  Claire quickly realized she’d just blurted out the first thought that popped into her head. Just the way Nolan did at times. She hadn’t meant to, but there it was. And now it was too late to take it back.

  He stared at her, shocked. “What are you talking about? What in the world does Fiona have to do with this?”

  Claire knew she had gone too far. But she had to be honest with him. He would be angry, but maybe it would help him in the long run.

  “I’m wondering if it’s all tangled up in your head. And your heart. Trying to win this lawsuit and prove to your daughter that she was wrong. That you’re not a failure.” She paused, wondering if her words made any sense to him. “Are you waiting until you sign a settlement to get in touch with her again?”

  “That’s ridiculous. Of course not. My relationship with Fiona is totally irrelevant. These two situations are completely separate.”

  Claire sighed. She could see there was no point in arguing with him about it. And she didn’t really want to.

  “That’s good, then, Nolan. Because you may never get satisfaction from this lawsuit. It would be a pity if all this waiting kept you from time with your daughter. Precious time.”

  Nolan frowned, his chin raised defiantly. “Easy for you to say. I thought you understood what I’m facing here . . . what I’m going through. But I was mistaken about you, Claire. Very mistaken.”

  Claire felt his harsh words like a chilly wind blowing right through her. Nolan turned and left the kitchen, calling Edison to follow him.

  Claire stood at the sink a moment, then walked to the back window and stared at the garden. Nolan was angry with her, and that made her sad. But she had told him the truth that was in her heart, and she wasn’t sorry. She did believe he was wasting his time on this fruitless quest. No one knew the number of their hours on this beautiful earth. Not even a scientist like Nolan. She hoped he didn’t end his life with deep regrets. But he was taking a mighty gamble.

  * * *

  DANIEL returned on the weekend, but he was buried in his textbooks and notes, or staring at his computer whenever he was at the inn. Most of the weekend, he stayed at his own cottage, and stopped by just for meals and late-night visits.

  Liza missed him almost as much as when he was in Boston. But she knew it was only two more weeks until the exams, and they decided that he should stay in the city until the test was over. He was in the homestretch now, and he thought it best to focus completely on preparing for his tests, and Liza did, too.

  She didn’t even want to bother him with decisions about the wedding, but couldn’t help asking his opinion on items she and Molly had worked on.

  “I can’t decide between pure white tablecloths or ivory,” she told him. “Molly suggested a blush pink. It was pretty but I think that’s too . . . girly or something. I think white looks very elegant, especially with the right flowers. But ivory is softer on the eye.”

  They were sitting in the porch swing on Saturday night.

  Daniel had a textbook open in his lap but his head kept drifting toward Liza’s shoulder, and she could tell by his breathing he was almost asleep sitting up.

  “Daniel, did you hear a word I just said?”

  He sat up and blinked. “Of course I did. Tablecloths. I’d like white. You know me, plain vanilla. But I trust your judgment on these things, honey. You know I do.”

  She gazed at him with a loving smile. “All right. ‘Yes, dear’ me. I guess it’s good practice for when we’re married.”

  She could tell he’d heard that. He turned and grinned. “We’ll see about that, Ms. Martin.” He took her hand, turning away from his book to look at her. “I know I’m not helping with this wedding stuff, but after August fifteenth, you’ll have my undivided attention. For the rest of your life. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good to me. And I’ll take care of the ‘wedding stuff’ too. And don’t worry, I’m not going to stick you with pink tablecloths.”

  He sighed and laughed. “I am relieved to hear that.”

  * * *

  LIZA was so busy with her wedding plans and running the inn, it took her a while to notice that something was amiss between Claire and Nolan. She thought she might be imagining it at first, then she realized that they really weren’t talking to each other. They spoke just enough to get their work done, but not in an easy, warm way, at mealtimes. Or any time, for that matter.

  She never saw them together after dinner anymore, not in the parlor playing Scrabble or sitting together on the porch with Edison between them.

  Liza thought it was probably none of her business. But Claire did seem distracted the last week or so, and not quite her usual energetic, upbeat self. Liza was concerned about her but wasn’t sure what to do.

  When Liza came down for breakfast Thursday morning,
Nolan was already working in the garden. Claire was in the dining room, checking the breakfast buffet, and soon returned to the kitchen, where Liza had settled in with her coffee and laptop.

  “Just a week until Daniel’s exams,” Claire said, pouring some coffee into the mug Jamie had sent her. “I bet you’re counting the days.”

  “I am. The tests last for two days, next Thursday and Friday. Pretty grueling, right?” Liza asked, making a face. “I’m not sure who wants it to be over sooner, me or Daniel.”

  “Oh, we all do,” Claire assured her. “We should have some sort of celebration for him. It’s quite an accomplishment, I think.”

  “It is,” Liza agreed. “But Daniel told me he doesn’t want any celebrating until he gets his test scores. Still, he’s got to be more relaxed once he gets past them. And his mentor, Dr. Mitchell, and his wife will be visiting the inn as soon as he gets back. So that will be good for him. Daniel is very excited about their reunion.”

  “Yes, he mentioned that to me. We’ll have to work on the menu.”

  “Daniel says Dr. Mitchell loves shellfish—mussels, clams, oysters. Maybe we should serve bouillabaisse or a seafood paella?”

  “Maybe . . . or oyster stew. Any dish with oysters or clams is easy. Once you’ve shucked them,” Claire pointed out.

  Liza grinned. “That’s always the hardest part of the recipe. Probably because I can barely open a clam. But you—”

  Claire nodded, smiling. “It’s a knack you get over the years.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should be stuck with all that work, especially at this time of year. Maybe Nolan can help you with that part.” Liza paused, noticing how Claire’s expression shifted just a tiny bit at the mention of his name. “Claire . . . it’s probably none of my business, but did you and Nolan have some sort of disagreement?”

  Claire folded a dish towel, her head bowed. “What makes you ask that?”

  “Just the way you’ve been acting toward each other, barely speaking two words in a row.”

  Claire sighed. “Yes . . . we did have words about something . . . I’d rather not explain it, if you don’t mind.”

  “It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me.” Liza paused, wondering what Claire would say to her if the situation were reversed. “Have you tried to talk things out with him?”

  Claire paused, then shook her head. “You probably think it was Nolan who spoke out of turn. I know he doesn’t always know the difference between being honest and rude. But it was me. I said a few things to him I probably shouldn’t have. With good intentions,” she quickly added.

  Liza was surprised. That was not like Claire, who was usually the soul of discretion. But Claire’s relationship with Nolan was different. When it came to Nolan, Liza suspected that Claire might actually get carried away with her feelings.

  “I’m sure you meant well, Claire.”

  “It’s just so hard to watch Nolan spend so much time and energy on this lawsuit,” she finally confided, “when he’s blessed every day with so many wonderful ideas and such a rich imagination. It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

  Liza heard the frustration in her voice—and her deep feelings for Nolan. Liza didn’t know what to say for a moment. Then she rested her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “The only advice I can offer is to try and think of what you would tell me if something like this happened between me and Daniel.”

  Claire seemed amused by the suggestion. “What would I say, do you think?”

  “Well, let’s see . . . I think you would remind me that the most important thing is forgiveness. To forgive someone if they hurt you, and to ask for their forgiveness.” Liza paused. “You don’t have to take back what you said, or be insincere, if it’s what you really believe. But let him know that you’re sorry you hurt his feelings and never meant to do that. How does that sound?”

  Claire slowly smiled. “Like very good advice. Thank you, Liza. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “I’ve learned a few things from being around you all these years.” Liza gave Claire a quick hug. “Besides how to crack and separate an egg white and yolk with one hand.”

  “Well, that’s important, too,” Claire replied, a familiar sparkle returning to her blue eyes. “Everything has its place in the scheme of things.”

  How true, Liza thought. She could always learn something from Claire.

  * * *

  CLAIRE was glad that Liza had encouraged her to make amends with Nolan. She had thought about it ever since their disagreement. A week was a long time to converse in monosyllables. Especially for two people who were as talkative as they were, she thought with a smile.

  How to do it was the problem. The shoulder he presented was so cold, she felt a frigid blast each time they shared the same room. It was hard to apologize to someone who didn’t even make eye contact.

  Should she corner him in the barn when he was working on the boat? He might chase her off by turning on some noisy power tool. Or hide in the boat cabin and just ignore her.

  She considered writing a note and leaving it near his dinner plate. Then she had a better idea. Something more personal. Just between the two of them.

  After dinner, Nolan went out to the barn, as Claire expected.

  She went into the parlor and took out the Scrabble set. She wrote her note, then sat knitting until she heard him return to the house and start up the stairs.

  Claire came out to the hallway and called him. “Nolan? Could you come into the parlor a moment? I need your opinion.”

  He glanced at her. She could tell he was curious but still stubbornly clinging to his chilly attitude. “I’m tired, Claire. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

  “Probably. But it will only take a minute. Please?”

  Claire went back into the parlor, hoping he would follow. Please, God, please don’t let me make a fool of myself. Please put him in a forgiving frame of mind.

  Claire stood by the game table and looked up as Nolan entered the room. Looking annoyed, he frowned at her. “Here I am. What’s this all about?”

  Claire glanced down at the table. “Do you think that’s permitted—spelling out a message on the Scrabble board? I can’t find anything about it in the rule book.”

  Nolan’s mouth pulled to the side. She could tell he was trying to hide a smile. He slipped on his glasses and carefully examined the board.

  Claire had used up practically all the tiles spelling out a message, the words overlapping, across and down.

  I AM SORRY NOLAN PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR SPEAKING OUT OF TURN I DID NOT MEAN TO HURT YOUR FEELINGS

  His gaze lingered on the careful arrangement of tiles. Then he finally looked up. Claire was relieved to see his expression had softened. “So you’ve been playing Scrabble without me?”

  She shrugged. “You left me no other choice.”

  “Nice work. I see you placed ‘speaking’ on a triple-word score. But proper names, like Nolan, aren’t permitted,” he reminded her.

  “Oh yes, that’s right. I’ll have to deduct that one from my score.” Now it was her turn to hide a smile.

  “And I would have thought you would have figured out how to fit a Q or a Z in there somewhere,” he added, mentioning the letters with the highest points.

  Claire shrugged. “Probably could have. But I was in a hurry.”

  He laughed out loud at that. “It’s hard to refuse such a charming apology. Impossible, actually.” He paused and took off his glasses. “I shouldn’t have carried on so long, either. Let’s just put it aside. We don’t need to talk about the lawsuit anymore, all right?” Claire wasn’t sure that was the best solution, to brush a difficult issue under the rug. But he already knew her opinion on the subject. She didn’t need to say more.

  “Agreed. Thank you for accepting my apology.”

  Claire began collecting the tiles and placing them
in the storage bag. Nolan reached down and helped her. “It’s too late now to start a game . . . But we’ll play tomorrow?”

  Claire smiled and nodded, feeling their relationship had nearly capsized but was back on course again.

  “I’d be happy to . . . and will make good use of the Qs and Zs. Just warning you.”

  “Thanks. Though I doubt it will help.” His smile, which Claire had missed, grew even wider.

  * * *

  LIZA and Daniel had agreed that he should stay in Boston and study over the weekend. It was the last week of his courses, his final sprint to the finish line, and he was very anxious about his exams, which were coming up on Thursday and Friday, August fifteenth and sixteenth.

  Liza didn’t know how she would last through the week, waiting for his exams to be done. But she knew it had to be even worse for him. At least she had plenty of other things to think about. It was mid-August, their busiest time of the season, and the inn was full, with some guests leaving and more expected. She didn’t have a moment to spare, and neither did Claire or Nolan. The many distractions and demands had come at a good time, Liza thought, forcing her to focus on each task at hand.

  Somehow, the week passed, and it was finally Friday. Daniel sent a quick text to say he was done with the final test and on his way home. While Claire and Nolan served dinner, Liza ran to her room and readied herself to greet him.

  She wasn’t quite finished when she heard his truck pull up to the inn. She glanced out the window and quickly pulled a comb through her wet hair. Then she ran downstairs in her bare feet to meet him. These days, as long as she had her engagement ring on, she felt completely dressed.

  Daniel walked into the foyer and dropped his knapsack near the door. Liza practically skipped down the last few steps and threw herself into his arms. They hugged each other tight.

  “Did you miss me?” he whispered.

  “What do you think?” She pulled back and looked up at him. She was afraid to ask about the exams, but couldn’t help herself. “So . . . how’d it go?”