by Irene Hannon
What if the Lord hadn’t spared Jarrod today? What if He’d called her son home, as He’d called Chloe home from Elijah and Emma? Would she have preferred never to have had him in her life at all?
No. Of course not. The mother-son experiences they’d shared were memories she would treasure till the end of her days. Despite the pain of loss, she wouldn’t have wanted to give up one minute with him.
And she was beginning to feel the same way about the man at her side.
Opening her eyes, she found him watching her, and the warmth, the caring, the tenderness in his expression told her he might have arrived at the same conclusion.
She lifted her uninjured hand to touch his face, to tell him...
“Ms. Peterson?”
At the summons, she snatched her hand back and jumped to her feet. Scott rose, too, and tucked her close against his side.
Dr. Anderson, still in his green surgical scrubs and cap, crossed the room toward them and waved them back into their seats. He dropped into a chair at a right angle to theirs in the corner.
“Everything went fine. As I mentioned earlier, your son will be off his feet for a few weeks, and he’ll need some therapy to get his muscles back into condition after that, but he’s in excellent shape and I predict he’ll bounce back. He’s in recovery now, but he’ll be waking up shortly. At that point, the nurse will come out to get you so he sees a familiar face as soon as possible. Any questions?”
Cindy sagged against Scott, limp with relief. “Not at the moment.”
The doctor rose. “If you do think of some later, don’t hesitate to ask one of the nurses or call my office. And don’t neglect that hand while you’re caring for your son. I heard about your mishap. Keep an eye on those stitches.” He included Scott in that instruction.
“We will.” Scott spoke for both of them.
Lifting his hand in farewell, the surgeon exited.
With a silent prayer of thanks, Cindy exhaled and stood. “I think I’ll freshen up. Not that I can do much about this—” she grimaced as she touched the blood on her dress “—or my stockings. As for the shoes...”
Scott checked out her legs. “I must admit I noticed the shoes.”
She grimaced. “I didn’t have my shoes on when I saw the accident from the second floor, and I ran out without them. One of the police officers grabbed the first pair he saw, along with my purse, so I could ride along in the ambulance. I’m not exactly making a fashion statement today, am I?”
“I think you look great.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but instead he gestured toward the door. “I wouldn’t mind freshening up either, and I want to call Gram and give her an update. Why don’t we meet back here in ten minutes?”
“Okay.”
They parted in the hallway, but her freshening up amounted to no more than washing her face and hands. A quick check in her purse confirmed that her makeup was still in the bathroom at home. She didn’t even have her lipstick.
She was back in the waiting room twice as fast as she’d expected, and five minutes later Scott appeared with a white sack and two disposable cups in a tray. As he took the chair beside her, the aroma of food wafted toward her—reminding her it was well past lunch time.
“Not as tasty as what you’d have had at the wedding, but it will do in a pinch.” He fished out a burger, peeled back the paper and cut it in half with a plastic knife. “That should be manageable. I’ve had some experience operating with one hand.” He flashed her a grin as he settled the burger in her lap.
She felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes. “How can I ever thank you for...” Her voice choked.
“No thanks necessary. Just eat and try to relax until they’re ready for us. In the meantime, let me tell you about the great meal I had last night in San Francisco.”
Somehow he managed to elicit a soft laugh or two with his humorous, self-deprecating tale about how he’d manhandled his chopsticks in front of Louis Mattson, sending a recalcitrant shrimp flying across the table toward his host’s lap. Before she knew it, she’d finished off the burger and downed a sixteen-ounce lemonade.
As he gathered up their trash, a nurse appeared at the door.
“Ms. Peterson?” When Cindy rose, the woman smiled. “Your son is waking up, and I’m certain he’d much rather see you than me.”
She joined the woman at the door and held out her hand to Scott. “Come with me?”
He didn’t hesitate. Twining his fingers with hers, he walked by her side as they followed the nurse to the recovery room.
For an instant, Cindy faltered when she caught sight of Jarrod. He looked small and vulnerable and pale against the white sheets, and he was hooked up to far too many monitors. A new wave of fear swept over her.
But then Scott squeezed her fingers, and her strength rebounded.
Together, they approached the side of Jarrod’s bed, and she touched his cheek. “Honey? Can you hear me?”
He stirred, then opened his eyes. Blinked. Furrowed his brow, as if trying to focus. “Mom?”
“I’m right here.”
“Is Toby okay?”
She smiled. “Yeah. He’s fine.”
He transferred his gaze to Scott and blinked again. “Is that Mr. Walsh?”
“Yep. I’m here, too, buddy.” Scott laid a hand on Jarrod’s uninjured leg.
“Did you guys get married?”
A rush of warmth flooded Cindy’s cheeks. “No, honey. We’ve been waiting here at the hospital while they fixed your leg.”
“I guess maybe I dreamed it.” He sighed and his eyelids flickered closed. “It was a nice dream. We were at the chapel on The Point. You guys and me and Mr. Walsh’s grandma and Nate and Lindsey and the sisters and...well, everyone was there. Even Toby. You had a really pretty dress on, Mom. Pink, I think. And Mr. Walsh had a suit on, with a flower in the buttonhole.” He opened his eyes again. “Maybe someday it won’t be a dream.”
The nurse joined them, checked Jarrod’s vitals and smiled. “He’s still drifting in and out. Don’t be worried if he’s not making sense.”
Scott put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close, his breath a warm whisper against her ear. “I think he’s making perfect sense. And I also think dreams can come true—if you give them a chance.” He urged her around to face him. “What do you think?”
At the tenderness and love shining in his eyes, happiness bubbled up inside her. “I think maybe your grandmother was right all along.”
He grinned. “She’ll never let us forget it either.”
“On the other hand—I’m not suggesting we rush things.” Fast might have worked for Elijah and Emma. But she was older. And wiser. And had a lot more baggage—and a son to worry about. “I think we should take it one step at a time.”
“I can live with that. So let’s take the next step.”
He bent toward her, and Cindy met him halfway, melting into the sweetness of a kiss filled with hope and devotion and the promise of a bright tomorrow.
“I know I’m not dreaming now.”
At Jarrod’s comment, she reluctantly broke contact and turned toward her son, reaching out to take his hand without leaving the protective circle of Scott’s arms.
“I don’t know, honey.” She smiled at Scott. “It feels kind of like a dream to me.”
“But it’s not.” Scott gave her a squeeze. “This is the real deal.”
“It sure is.” Jarrod beamed at them.
And as Cindy snuggled closer to the man who’d come to Starfish Bay to build an inn but who’d also built a bridge to her heart, she could only agree.
Epilogue
Four Months Later
The black-tie fundraising party for the Humboldt County Historical Society had been a rousing success.
Alone for a rare moment as the event wound down, Cindy smiled as she looked over the dispersing crowd. Based on the numerous compliments she’d received and the comments she’d overheard, guests had been captivated by the life
of the late-nineteenth-century sea captain and swept away by his century-old romance—just as she’d hoped they would be.
And judging by the smile on her boss’s face as Elaine wove toward her through the thinning horde that had packed the gallery to view “The U.S. Revenue Cutter Service: Patrolling the Coast—and Keeping the Home Fires Burning” exhibit, the director of the historical society was pleased, too.
“I knew when I offered you that promotion you’d excel at the job, but even I never expected anything quite like this for your first effort.” Elaine stopped beside her and surveyed the gallery. “I love how you used those blown-up handwritten snippets from the journal, logbook and letters, along with the pictures from Emma’s album. They bring the story to life in such a personal way. Not to mention all the wonderful artifacts that were in those trunks.”
A flush of pleasure suffused Cindy’s cheeks. “It did turn out well. But I had great material to work with.”
“I’ll say. I especially love the wedding dress.” Elaine sighed and studied Emma’s gown, displayed in the center of the room on a mannequin in a glass case beside Elijah’s jacket and cap. “Such a romantic story. It makes you believe in happy endings, doesn’t it?”
At the mention of happy endings, Cindy’s gaze swept the room. When she spotted Scott on the far side, looking heart-stoppingly handsome in his tux as he chatted with his grandmother and the sisters from the Orchid, she smiled.
The exhibit wasn’t the only thing making her believe in happy endings these days.
“Cindy?”
At Elaine’s prompt, she redirected her attention to her boss. “Yes. Theirs was a wonderful love story. And it was inspiring how they stuck together through good times and bad. I’m happy they were blessed with a long, full life and three more children.”
“Speaking of children...Anna’s about due for a feeding, so she’ll be getting cranky. Dave’s still nervous about being alone with her, and I promised I wouldn’t be gone long. I think he’s afraid she’ll break if he picks her up.” Elaine chuckled and touched Cindy’s arm. “Do you mind staying until the end to turn off the lights and lock up? It shouldn’t be long. These things wind down fast.”
“Not at all. Go feed your daughter.”
With a mock salute, her boss headed for the exit.
For the next few minutes, Cindy worked the gallery, thanking departing guests, answering more questions and accepting a few more congratulations. As she finally approached the small group on the other side of the room, the three women beamed at her while Scott gave her a slow, warm smile that kicked her pulse into double time.
“My goodness, Cindy, we had no idea when you told us about this display that it was such a huge undertaking.” Lillian glanced around the room. “I can’t imagine how you juggled putting this together with all the demands of Jarrod’s recovery.”
“I had a lot of help from my friends.” She encompassed them all with her smile because each of them had pitched in to relieve her of some of her caregiver duties during the past four months. Especially Scott, who had often entertained Jarrod on weekends when she’d come to town to put in extra hours on the exhibit.
“Well, it was worth all the effort,” Lillian declared. “I enjoyed every single minute. And what a clever theme.”
“I liked the home fires part best.” Genevieve smiled, her eyes dreamy. “Talk about a romantic story! I love how Emma always kept a light burning in the window while Elijah was gone. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew it was there. Doesn’t that send a shiver down your spine?”
“It certainly does. They were people of such great faith, too. There’s a lesson for us all in that, I think,” Barbara added.
“Amen to that.” Lillian checked her watch. “I do believe we’re about to shut down this party, and we have a long drive back to Starfish Bay. I think we’d best be on our way.”
“I’ll walk out with you ladies and transfer Gram’s suitcase from my car to yours.” Scott took Barbara’s arm.
“You’re going back to Starfish Bay with Genevieve and Lillian?” Cindy looked at Scott’s grandmother, who’d discarded the walker weeks ago and was about to ditch her cane. It had been hard to keep up with all her activities since she’d moved home on July 3.
“Yes. We’re having a slumber party.” Barbara nudged Genevieve, and the two of them giggled like teenagers. “Did Scott tell you I’m moving to Starfish Bay?”
Cindy’s eyes widened, and she shifted her attention to the tall man who usually kept her up-to-date with all his grandmother’s activities. “No.”
“That’s because I just found out last night.” Scott grinned at her. “Since Gram’s carrot cake has been such a hit with Orchid customers and her paintings are selling like hotcakes, she’s decided to move to Starfish Bay. She’s planning to do some baking at the Orchid, paint and help out at the gallery. Janice figures her business is going to increase once the inn opens, and she offered Gram a part-time job there.”
“So Genevieve and Lillian and I are going apartment hunting tomorrow.” Barbara picked up the story. “I’m going to try it out for a few months, and if I like it, I’ll sell my house here and move north.”
“You’ll love it,” Genevieve assured her. She peered over Cindy’s shoulder toward the main room. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”
Cindy surveyed the display area. The catering company staff had swooped in the instant the last guest departed, and the servers were stripping and dismantling the cocktail tables and portable serving counters with practiced efficiency.
The three older women hugged Cindy, and Scott took up the rear as they started toward the exit. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Wait for me?”
“No problem. I can’t leave until they’re done.” She gestured to the catering employees.
Truth be told, she wanted a few minutes alone with him. Things had been so hectic from the moment she’d arrived that she’d hardly had a chance to do more than say hello to him. Even when he’d called earlier to wish her luck, she’d been running out the door to drop Jarrod off at Janice’s for the evening and they’d exchanged only a few words.
Five minutes later, as the catering crew was packing up the last of the equipment and stowing it in their van, Scott reappeared.
Cindy watched him as he crossed the room toward her, giving thanks as always for his steady, loving presence in her life. In the past four months, he’d quietly become an integral part of her world—and of Jarrod’s. And although she’d entered into this romance with caution, her fears had disappeared. For she had come to believe this was a man she could trust with her life—and her heart.
He stopped in front of her, and his slow, appreciative perusal set her pulses fluttering. “If I haven’t already told you, that dress is a knockout.”
Smoothing one hand down the fitted black silk skirt that ended at her knees and featured a flirty slit on the side, she touched the pearls at her neck with the other. Despite the dent it had put in her budget, she was glad she’d splurged on the sophisticated dress after she’d spotted it in a boutique window on her drive to work one day a few weeks ago.
If this kept up, however, she was going to become an impulse shopper after all.
“Thank you. You look very nice, too.”
He ran a finger under the collar of his starched pleated shirt and gave her a rueful glance. “I appreciate the compliment, but to be honest, I can’t wait to get rid of this bow tie. Not to mention the cummerbund. Whoever invented formal clothes was more interested in style than comfort.”
“Tell me about it.” She lifted one foot and wiggled the skinny high heel on her slingbacks. “Try standing on these for three hours.”
“I see your point. But I have to admit I like them.” He backed off for a better view of her legs, then gave a soft whistle.
Her cheeks warmed, and she started to turn away. “I need to flip off the lights and lock up.”
“Wait.” He caught her hand. “Let’s take one more lo
ok at the centerpiece of your display. It was so crowded in that area, I didn’t get a chance to linger over it. And I have some news to share with you, too.”
Some subtle nuance in his inflection put her on alert, and she followed in silence as he led her to the glass case containing Emma’s wedding dress and Elijah’s jacket and cap.
He stopped in front of the display and faced her. “I got a note from Devon today.”
That could be good or bad.
“Is she okay?” Last she’d heard, Devon was working full-time as a temp at a theatrical licensing agency in New York while she “explored her options,” as she’d put it. But Cindy knew Scott—and Gram—worried about her every day.
“Yes. She’s fine. Great, in fact. She just took a job as manager of a children’s theater program with a regional theater company in St. Louis. She’ll be teaching kids and directing youth productions, plus acting in some of the main stage productions.”
Relief coursed through her, and she squeezed his hand. “That’s wonderful! It sounds like a perfect solution. Is she happy about it?”
“I think so. I know it was hard for her to give up her dream of seeing her name in lights on Broadway, but she seems to have made peace with it.” He fished in the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a letter and handed it to her. “I got this today.”
Cindy released his hand, opened the single sheet of paper and found a check inside. She read the note, which recounted what Scott had already told her...except for the last paragraph.
“I know you’ve been carrying the burden of Gram’s expenses for almost a year, and I’d like to make up for some of that—not to mention my mooching. Please use this to replenish the emergency fund I helped deplete...or for anything Gram needs. There will be more coming down the road. And thanks for all your patience and support. Plus the courage to tell me what I didn’t want to hear—that it was time to grow up. I know that was as hard for you to say as it was for me to hear. I love you, bro. And in case I haven’t told you lately, I feel lucky to have you in my life.”
