by Irene Hannon
After giving the dog one more pat, she straightened up. “Well, I’m forgetting my manners. Hello, Cindy.” She extended her hand, and Cindy reached for it. “And hello to you, too, young man. I brought you a treat.” She smiled at Jarrod and dug in the pocket of her slacks, pulling out half a dozen Hersey’s Kisses.
“Wow! Thank you.” Jarrod’s eyes brightened as he took them.
“One now. The rest after lunch, honey.” Cindy ignored her son’s pained expression and touched Barbara’s arm, indicating the window of the gallery. “Did you notice the featured painting?”
Scott’s grandmother blinked at the seascape, and a smile curved her lips. “Now wasn’t that nice of her? I’m anxious to meet this Janice.”
“Then let’s go inside.” Scott took her arm as she maneuvered her walker through the door.
“Stay close, okay?” Cindy paused beside Jarrod, who remained hunkered down beside Toby, scratching behind his ears.
“Sure. Don’t hurry.”
By the time Cindy joined Scott and Barbara inside, Janice was emerging from the back of the shop. Once the introductions were made, the shop owner led Barbara on a tour of the gallery while Scott and Cindy followed a few steps behind.
“Thanks for bringing Toby. You made Jarrod’s day. Not to mention someone else’s.” Cindy inclined her head toward his grandmother.
“I’m glad it worked out. I was afraid she might refuse to come after she found him in the car, but I was counting on her matchmaking agenda trumping her aggravation.”
To her surprise, his last statement held more warmth than irony. Odd. In the past, when they’d discussed his grandmother’s romantic maneuverings, she thought he’d been as opposed to them as she was.
Had there been a shift in his perspective?
Was he cracking the door to the possibility of a relationship?
A quick glance his direction didn’t give her a clue. He was watching Gram as she chatted with Janice, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. Perhaps he was just distracted, and she was reading far more into a simple statement than he’d intended.
But what if she wasn’t? What if he’d read Elijah’s journal, too, and been affected by it as much as she had? What if he’d decided he cared enough about her to take another chance on love despite the risk?
If he had, that left her with one key question.
Was she ready to leave the past behind—the good, the bad and the guilt—in the hope of finding the same kind of vibrant, nurturing love Elijah and Emma had shared more than one hundred years ago?
* * *
Scott pulled into a parking spot in front of the Orchid Café, set the brake and checked out the passengers in the backseat. Cindy had hesitated when he’d suggested they leave her car in front of the gallery and use his car for the town tour and the lunch stop, but in the end logic had won out. How could she be their tour guide if they didn’t all share a car? Now, Toby was squeezed in beside Jarrod, his head stuck through the window, his tongue hanging out. Cindy was regaling Gram with the history of the Orchid.
“Genevieve and Lillian came to town about a dozen years ago and fell in love with the place. They stayed here, though it had a different name at the time. Once they found out the proprietor was ready to retire and interested in selling, they bought it on the spot. I didn’t live in Starfish Bay then, but from what I’ve heard, they only went home to Georgia long enough to pack up. They were both widows seeking a new purpose in life, and from everything I’ve seen they found it in the Orchid. You’ll love them.”
“They cook real good, too,” Jarrod chimed in.
“I’ll second that.” Scott pushed open his door. “Everybody crack their windows so Toby can breathe. Gram, sit tight till I come around.”
He exited the car as Cindy and Jarrod slid out via her door, leaving Toby behind.
Jarrod leaned back in and stroked the forlorn dog. “I’ll bring you a treat, boy. If that’s okay with you, Mr. Walsh?” He shot the hopeful question to Scott as the man opened Barbara’s door.
“Just one.” Scott held out an arm to the older woman.
Cindy circled the car to join Scott as Jarrod gave Toby one final pet. The boy backed out of the car, giggling as the dog licked his face.
“I haven’t heard that sound in a long time.” Cindy’s lips softened into a smile as she regarded her son.
“Laughter is wonderful for the soul.” Gram patted her arm. “For adults and children. We could all use more laughter in our lives.” She sent a deliberate gaze Scott’s way.
“I seem to recall an old saying about a pot and a kettle.” He took her arm and guided her inside, ignoring the jab she delivered to his side.
Genevieve spotted them the instant they stepped through the door and leaned sideways to call through the pass-through. “Lillian! They’re here!” Then she bustled over and hugged Gram without waiting for an introduction. “You must be Barbara. I’m Genevieve. Scott’s told us all about you, and we’ve been so anxious to get acquainted. And isn’t it lovely that Cindy and Jarrod came along, too?” She beamed at the new arrivals.
Lillian appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and smoothing back her hair, a streak of flour on her cheek. She smiled and took Gram’s hand. “Welcome, Barbara. I’m Lillian.”
As Genevieve tapped her own cheek, Lillian swiped a hand across hers. “Sorry about that. I’m baking cakes today, and the flour’s flying fast and furious back there.”
Energy fairly crackled off the two senior dynamos, infusing the air around them with a joie de vivre that was difficult to resist. Scott eyed Gram. Was it his imagination, or was she standing straighter than usual?
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you both. What kind of cakes are you baking?”
“Double fudge, split lemon and spice. Tomorrow I’m on to pies and cobblers—apple, blackberry and pecan. Are you a baker?”
Scott jumped in. “Gram used to make a killer carrot cake.”
“Is that right?” Genevieve tilted her head, her interest clearly piqued. “I love carrot cake, but we’ve never found a recipe half as delicious as the one our own mother used to make, and she took it with her to the grave, I’m sorry to say. We stopped trying to replicate it long ago. I’d surely like to sample yours someday.”
“Oh, I haven’t baked in a year. At Seaside Gardens, where I live, there’s no opportunity to use a kitchen.”
“My. I can’t imagine not ever being in a kitchen again.” Lillian said the hushed words as if someone had died, and Genevieve gave a solemn nod.
“Once you’re further along in your physical therapy, maybe you can go home for an afternoon and tackle a carrot cake,” Cindy suggested. “Call it selfish, but I’d love to try a piece myself.”
“I suppose I could consider that down the road. But in the meantime, I came to sample your cooking. I’ve heard nothing but raves from these three.” Gram gestured toward her entourage.
With a pleased smile, Genevieve picked up four menus and ushered them into the dining room. “When Scott told us he was bringing you, we put our pot roast on the menu in your honor. You don’t have to order it, but I can promise it’ll melt in your mouth.” Genevieve passed out the menus as they took their seats at a round table by the window. “You look that over and I’ll be back in a jiffy. Have you already had your tour of our charming little town?”
“Yes. Cindy was a very gracious and knowledgeable guide.”
“And after lunch, I’m going to give them a tour of The Point.” Scott handed back his unopened menu. “I already know I want the pot roast.”
“Make that two.” Gram passed her menu back, too. “I’ve been hearing so much about this inn Scott’s building, I’m anxious to see it myself.”
“Pot roast, Jarrod?” At his nod, Cindy tapped the two menus together on the table and returned them to Genevieve. “It’s unanimous.”
“I must be an excellent saleswoman.” Genevieve tucked the menus under her arm. “Charming spot,
The Point. Lillian and I used to go down to the chapel on occasion and sit and watch the water. You’ll love the view. It’s quite romantic.” She looked at Scott, then Cindy, whose cheeks pinkened.
Much to Scott’s relief, Lillian chose that moment to hurry over with a basket of fresh-baked rolls.
For the rest of the meal, Scott guided the conversation in safe directions. With Jarrod throwing in an occasional comment and the sisters adding their two cents every time they stopped by the table, lunch passed without any more awkward interludes.
“Well, now, I’d say you did that meal justice.” Genevieve bustled over to their table, Lillian at her heels, as Scott finished the last bite of his blackberry cobbler.
“My compliments to the chefs.” Gram patted her mouth with a napkin and smiled at the sisters. “All of the wonderful things I heard about your cooking were true. And I like your slogan.” She shot Scott a deliberate look and tapped the orchid-festooned paper placement in front of her, which displayed the words, “Wish upon a star in Starfish Bay—where dreams come true.”
He ignored her.
“We like it, too. And it was certainly true for us. I hope you’ll come back for another visit soon.” Lillian discreetly slid the bill on the table, and Scott picked it up.
Cindy reached for her purse, but he stopped her with a touch on the arm. “My treat.”
“A gentleman always pays, my dear.” Gram patted Cindy’s hand.
“That’s very true. In my day, dutch treat was unheard of on a date,” Genevieve seconded.
“This isn’t a date.” Cindy’s tone was firm as she continued to dig for her wallet.
“I’ve got it.” Scott handed his credit card to Lillian, and the older woman made a fast exit toward the cash register.
Cindy stopped rooting through her purse. “I’ll pay you back later.”
“We’ll talk about it.” He laid his napkin beside his plate and stood. “Right now The Point awaits.”
They all rose, and Cindy let the matter drop as he helped Gram up. But he knew she wasn’t pleased with his high-handedness. Nor was she happy about leaving the impression with the older women that this was a date. Because it wasn’t.
But truth be told, he wished it was.
And if he could find the courage to let go of fear and guilt and take a leap of faith, perhaps next time it would be.
Chapter Eleven
“Oh, my. What a view!” Gram stared at the panoramic vista as Scott’s tires crunched on the gravel road that led out of the spruce-scented forest and onto the tip of the headland.
Cindy leaned forward for a better look. She hadn’t been here since construction began in January. The No Trespassing sign Jarrod had ignored was clearly posted at the chained-off entrance from 101. But the sweeping view was as spectacular as she remembered. The barren headland jutted high above the sparkling sea, and a fine mist rose from the waves crashing against the jagged rocks at the base.
“The chapel looks finished.” She repositioned herself for a better view of the small white structure with the soaring steeple. Last time she’d seen it the town landmark had been in a sad state of disrepair. It appeared Louis Mattson has lived up to his promise to dismantle, salvage and reconstruct Starfish Bay Chapel on a smaller scale.
“It better be. It was one of Mattson’s top priorities. There’s a wedding here next Saturday morning.”
“I know. Lindsey and Nate’s. This place is very special to them.”
“We’re invited, too.” Jarrod unclasped his seat belt and bounced forward, one arm around Toby. “It’ll be my first wedding. Mom says there’ll be cake.”
“At the reception after the wedding,” Cindy reminded him.
“Yeah. I remember. Are you coming, Mr. Walsh?”
“No. I don’t know Lindsey and Nate very well, and the chapel only seats fifty. Besides, I have to go to San Francisco next week. I won’t be back in time.” He pulled into a parking spot that afforded them a clear view of the emerging inn.
Cindy followed along as he pointed out the structural steel for the building. “Mattson designed this to conform with the landscape and maintain a low profile. He wanted it to blend in rather than stand out. You can see how it follows the contour of the land. It’s also situated to be as invisible as possible from 101 and Starfish Bay.”
“I bet this will be a pricey place to stay,” Barbara commented.
“Very. Out of my league, that’s for sure.” Scott jingled the ring that held the key he’d used to unlock the padlock on the chain across the entrance. “Would you like to take a look inside the chapel? I have a key for that, too.”
Barbara eyed the uneven terrain uncertainly. “I would, but I don’t think I’m up for tramping around a construction site.”
“There’s a handicapped ramp on the far side.” Scott put the car in gear again and drove across the gravel lot. The finished ramp came into sight as they approached, along with a weathered stone bench that Cindy suspected would serve as a great whale-watching spot. Scott pulled up close to the ramp and set the brake. “What do you think now?”
“I might be able to manage it—with a lot of help. And I would like to see inside. It’s such a lovely chapel, but I’m just starting to work on ramps with Brett.”
“Her physical therapist,” Scott explained over his shoulder.
“Yes, I’ve heard all about Brett.” Cindy smiled. Barbara was quite taken with the energetic young man and wasn’t shy about extolling his virtues. “I can’t compete with him, but I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”
“Okay. We can do this.” Scott opened his door. “Jarrod, clip on Toby’s leash and we’ll let him stretch his legs, too.”
“Cool.”
As Jarrod attached the leash, Scott slid out of the car and opened Cindy’s door. Barbara already had her door open by the time they circled around to her. There was only room for one person beside the car, so Cindy stayed out of Scott’s way. But she was close enough to admire the bunching muscles under the sleeves of his dress shirt as he pulled Barbara to her feet. Talk about being in excellent condition. The man must lift weights or work out or...
“Cindy?”
She snapped back to attention at Scott’s query. “What?”
“Could you shut the door?”
From his tone, she had a feeling he’d asked her more than once.
Averting her head to conceal the sudden rush of warmth to her cheeks, she complied.
“How come your face is red, Mom?”
So much for hiding her embarrassment.
“Must be the wind. It’s gusty up here.” Barbara’s inflection was matter-of-fact, but the twinkle in her eyes when Cindy turned back suggested she’d deduced the real reason.
Fortunately, maneuvering up the ramp required all of the older woman’s attention. The going was slow, and she was puffing as they arrived at the top.
“You okay, Gram?” Scott fitted the key in the lock.
“Out of shape...is all.” She grimaced. “And to think I used to play fetch...with Toby in the backyard.”
“Give it time. You’ve progressed a lot even in the past week.” Scott pocketed the ring of keys and spoke to Jarrod. “Why don’t you tie Toby’s leash to the railing while we peek inside? Then we can walk him around the site a bit. Ladies...” He stepped aside and ushered them in.
Barbara shuffled in first, and Cindy stayed close behind, poised to reach out if she stumbled. But they all made it inside without incident. Once they gathered in the center of the short aisle, they stood in silence as they took in the re-created space.
Extraordinary and inspiring were the words that popped into Cindy’s mind.
Starfish Bay Chapel had been lovely when she’d first attended services here. Reverend Tobias had lavished the structure and grounds with love, and watching it decay after his death had been heartrending. But now...
She gazed at the original wooden pews, fewer in number but polished to a satiny glow. The large window in front,
intersected with gold art glass in the shape of a cross, offered a sweeping view of the sea and sky beyond. She recognized the original pulpit, the brass chandeliers, the decorative molding at the top of the arched windows that lined the side walls.
It was the Starfish Bay Chapel she remembered but in miniature.
She stroked a hand over the back of a pew, the finish smooth beneath her fingers, the smell of fresh paint lingering in the air. “This is wonderful.”
“I agree.” Gram gripped the walker and urged it forward. “You can feel God’s presence in this place. I wouldn’t mind sitting a spell, if you all can spare the time.”
“Fine with me. I can give Jarrod a tour of some of the equipment on the site while you soak up the ambience.”
Her son’s eyes widened, and Cindy telegraphed Scott a silent thank-you. Not only would that gesture make amends for their rocky start, it was every little boy’s dream—getting up close and personal with heavy equipment. Best of all, she didn’t have to worry about his safety. Scott would watch out for him.
Scott smiled and winked at her. Message received.
“Seriously?” Jarrod continued to stare at Scott.
“Yes. As long as you promise to stick close.”
“I promise. Can I take Toby?”
“No problem, but keep a tight grip on the leash. He’s used to being fenced in, and he has a tendency to take off in wide-open spaces.”
“I’ll hold it real tight.”
“Cindy? Would you like to come?”
“Don’t be silly.” Barbara waved the notion aside. “Does she looked dressed to be traipsing around in a dirt pile? She’ll ruin those pretty shoes. I’m sure she’d much rather stay and keep me company.”
“I think I’m staying.” Cindy smiled at Scott.
“Okay. We won’t be long. Let me help you get situated, Gram.”
Once the older woman was settled, Cindy sat beside her in the pew.
