“No, no,” she finally replied, glad her words sounded strong. “I’ll be all right. I’ve got a business appointment tomorrow morning. In fact, I’ll be going back and forth to the city a lot from now on.”
Silence. “I see,” said Matt, his tone a bit cooler. “Your career must be taking off again.” It was a statement, not a question.
“No guarantees, but you knew that was my goal.”
“Are you…thinking about leaving Sea View House, about cutting short your stay with us?”
“No!” Her response exploded from her heart first, then from her mouth.
“Good.” Matt sounded more relaxed. “And if you change your mind about wanting company…just call.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will,” he replied. “And I’ll see you when you get home. Good night.”
Home! A loaded word. She could only whisper her goodnight before gently replacing the receiver into its cradle. Then she dropped her head into her hands. Pilgrim Cove and Matthew Parker were pulling her back. The two had become one. At least in her mind. It seemed that forging on with life was a repetitive dance pattern—two steps forward and one step back. She took a deep breath and stood up. A quick call to Alison, followed by a hot shower and she’d feel better.
But not as good as she felt after a run on Pilgrim Beach. The thought stopped her in her tracks. She’d gotten stronger every day since arriving at Sea View House. If the rest of her stay proved to be as satisfying as the first part, why couldn’t she sell the city house, settle in Pilgrim Cove and live near the beach all year round?
Excitement flared then fizzled to ash. There was no reason her brilliant plan couldn’t work.
Except one.
Matthew Parker.
He cared about her. She could sense it. But he’d run like hell if he discovered the truth. She wasn’t a masochist. A one-sided love would negate any other joy she could find in Pilgrim Cove. She’d keep her brilliant idea to herself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LAURA ENJOYED the boat ride back to Pilgrim Cove even more than the ride into Boston. The late-afternoon air was a tad warmer than the day before and the sun sparkled off the water as if reflecting the facets of perfect diamonds—millions of them. She reached for her sunglasses.
When the ferry approached the Pilgrim Cove harbor, Laura drank in the sight. Had it been only twenty-four hours since she’d left? True, her time had been filled with a variety of people, locations, a host of raw feelings, new information, new discoveries and new commitments to her work. She’d been on the go from the moment she’d stepped ashore in the city yesterday until thirty minutes ago when she’d stepped onto the ferry.
On the phone last night, her sister, Alison, had chatted nonstop about possible condos for Laura in Atlanta. Laura had explained about the potential blossoming of her career, but Alison wasn’t giving up. Laura hadn’t wanted to quash her sister’s enthusiasm, so she’d simply told her to slow down. After all, who knew what the future held?
Laura’s car was parked in the lot adjacent to the harbor, and she waved to the attendant before climbing in. She put her “homework” in the passenger seat and headed toward Matt’s house to retrieve the kitten. The naked trees planted along the street were starting to bud—perhaps some maple and birch. She was curious to see what developed in this seaside environment.
At Matt’s house, she rang the front doorbell and immediately heard the sound of raised voices and the soft thuds of sneakered feet running on carpeting.
“Hi-i-i, Laura.” The greeting was appropriate, but the voice was flat.
“Hi, yourself, Casey. What’s going on?”
He opened the door wider, and Laura walked inside. Brian was holding the kitten.
“We thought of a name,” said the older boy.
“Great. A name that you both like?” Laura looked from one boy to the other.
Two heads nodded.
“Then I’m going to love it.” Whatever they’d come up with would be fine.
“It’s Midnight!” yelled Casey.
“’Cause you found her in the middle of the night,” said Brian. “And besides, she’s almost all black. So it fits.”
Laura looked at the boys, surprised at the pride she felt. “You guys are the greatest. How clever of you. It’s a purr-fect name.” She trilled her pronunciation.
The kids grinned, but to her astonishment, hung their heads, their cheeks turning pink.
“Give me five, kids,” she said, her palms out, wanting to make them feel more comfortable.
Matt’s sons straightened and slapped her hand.
“So why don’t you look happy, Case?” she asked.
Silence.
She looked at Brian and raised a brow.
“Uh—he wants to keep Midnight, but he knows he can’t.” Brian stepped closer to his brother and put his free arm around him.
Darn! She should have seen this coming. She squatted in front of Casey.
“I’ll be going into Boston often from now on and I’d love for you to be the official kitten sitter every time I’m away. It’ll be a load off my mind.”
The child nodded.
“And you can come with me to the vet when I take Midnight for her shots.”
Casey wrinkled his nose.
“Only if you want to…”
There was an interesting struggle on the child’s face as he looked from the cat to Laura. “Yes,” he finally said. The word aspirated on a big breath as though matching the big decision.
“Good boy.” Matt’s deep voice came from behind Laura, startling her.
She stood quickly and twirled around, observing his guarded expression as he examined her from head to toe. His intensity silenced her greeting.
“So, you came back,” he said with a trace of surprise in his voice.
Matt’s words were so far removed from everything she’d been thinking and feeling, she could barely answer. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
Laura put her hand to her forehead. “Wait a minute. Didn’t we speak on the phone last night? Didn’t I say I’d be back today?”
“You did, but women have been known to change their minds.”
He stared at her, and she met his gaze. “In my experience, it’s the men who do.”
“Ahh,” Matt replied, his brow clearing. “You’re an interesting woman, Laura, and now I understand you a little better. But I wonder how long it will take me to know you well. To know the real Laura McCloud.”
She bit her lip. The real Laura McCloud was none of his business. And if her feelings were bubbling to the surface too easily, she’d clamp down on them.
“There’s not much more to know.” She forced a chuckle into her voice and reached for the kitten.
But Matt wasn’t letting her off that easily. “Who was he, Laura?” he whispered as he accompanied her to the door. “Who walked out on you?”
IT WASN’T THE WHO as much as the why that bothered Laura. She recognized that later in the evening as she prepared a simple meal for herself in Sea View House. She’d made a quick getaway after his loaded question. And hadn’t stopped thinking about his damn question since.
Donald Crawford was not the love of her life. She saw that now, so her heart wasn’t broken. But he’d managed to do more than reject her growing affection. He’d destroyed her hope. Worse than the look of horror on his face had been his words. Immediate. Devastating.
“I’m not cut out for this, Laura. First, your mother gets sick. Then you. I’m sorry for you, being stalked with bad luck, but I can’t take it. I’m young. I want a life!”
She hadn’t said a word. Couldn’t. Just walked to her front door and opened it wide. Slammed it when he was barely over the threshold. Damn it! She was as young as he. She wanted a life, too! And she didn’t want pity. Anger had overridden fear at that moment, and she viewed it as a gift to get her through that hard time.
But now there was Matt. Another man, but so different from Donald. At least in her mind. Caring and sensitive, he was occupying a bigger place in her heart every day. If their relationship grew and he walked out, her heart would be broken. And this time there’d be no recovery.
So, despite her delight with the town and its citizens, it was time for Laura to get out of Dodge.
Maybe she’d be doing Matt a favor. He was a widower. Already lost the major love of his life. Laura didn’t know the details, only that his wife had died, leaving him with two boys. Matt seemed, however, to be ready to move on with his life. He was interested in Laura. He’d been ready to run to her in Boston last night. Of course, he was being encouraged by every ROMEO in town! Including Sam. So maybe Laura was the first woman he’d pursued since Valerie. Maybe they’d actually be good for each other.
Her head ached. Too much thinking. Well, she’d fix that right now. She grabbed a can of soda and raised it in a mock salute. “To life,” she said. “And to whatever it brings.”
THE NEXT MORNING, she received a call from Norman Cohen with the audition date for the audio books. She had a two-week window, but she also had Filene’s three commercials to prepare.
“Don’t worry, Norman. It’s the best thing that could have happened.” She tried to reassure him, when he—despite having recently been pushing her to do more—was now concerned that the total prep would be too much in too short a time. “Weren’t you the one who said I had to jump into the deep end of the pool?” she asked.
She listened and laughed. “I have no intention of drowning. Sure, try to move the date, but don’t sweat it. I can meet the deadline.”
After another minute of conversation, she replaced the receiver. Work would occupy her mind from day to night. She would attack it with the singlemindedness of a mountain climber traveling one step at a time but with his mind on the summit. And she’d have no time for thoughts of Matt.
Now she created duplicate calendars for the kitchen table and den, penciling in each day’s work goal and appointments. No chance of messing up her schedule or forgetting her appointments in Boston. Both recording and medical. She glanced at her precise entries when she was finished and added critical phone numbers on top of the calendar. Everything she needed was now right at hand.
Dr. Berger was scheduled the week after the audio books audition. Three weeks to go—it would be mid-April by then—and she’d be through another four-month checkup. Maybe the one after this would be in six months. The interval between checkups increased as time passed.
She pulled out the scripts for the department store and went to work. Sitting, standing, walking and talking. Taping and replaying. Until she finally heard the loud knocking at the kitchen door and ran to answer it.
Matt. Scruffy, sexy, and frowning.
“I got worried, Laura. I’ve been on the porch looking up and down the beach for almost half an hour, until I realized you might actually be inside. You’re always outdoors at this time.”
“Just what time is it?” She suddenly noticed that shadows were forming, the light was going.
He glanced at his watch. “Almost five o’clock.”
“You’re kidding! I’ve been working.”
His eyes narrowed. “You look pale again. No long walk today?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s do it.” He held out his hand.
“What?”
“Put on a jacket and let’s go for a walk.” He started looking around.
On the beach alone with Matt Parker? Dangerous to her heart. “I can skip a day, Matt. You don’t have to waste more time because of me.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “Put that idea out of your head. Spending time with you is not a waste.” Then his eyes started to twinkle. “But I’m not letting you get away with being lazy. First it’ll be one day, then it’ll be two. Then you’ll never get out of the house. Isn’t the beach the main reason you’re here? Come on. Let’s go.”
The beach may have been the main reason—once, but she was discovering more to hold her in Pilgrim Cove now. Laura looked at Matt again. His twinkle was gone, replaced with a hunger that was unmistakable.
“You have no idea how beautiful you look after an hour’s walk. You’re all smiles, your cheeks are rosy and your eyes sparkle.” He paused, then added, “I love seeing you that way.”
Her breath hitched. Why did he use that L word so easily? She should tell him to go back to work and leave her alone. But his eyes shone with warmth, and he held out his hand to her again. This time she accepted it. And felt his fingers clasp hers with firmness.
She took a breath. A deep one. Maybe it was time to take a chance.
But did the heavens have to twinkle with millions of stars? Did all of nature have to conspire to create a perfect world that evening? Moonlight. Starlight. Whispering waves.
Laura was acutely aware of her surroundings as she and Matt walked side by side. His hand reached for hers regularly, his attention rested on her constantly. She ignored the small warning voice in her head.
She peeked up at Matt and jabbed him with her elbow. “C’mon, old man. Let’s pick up the tempo.”
If he could see the expression on his face!
“Old man? I’ll show you old!”
And they were off at a jog. She matched his stamina but not his stride, so he slowed down almost immediately and paced himself despite his mock protestations of being old. When he smiled at her, it was easy to respond.
But all too soon, their three-mile loop brought them around to where they’d started—on the back porch of Sea View House.
“Sorry, I can’t come inside,” Matt said, checking his watch in the porch light. “The family will be wondering.”
But he wanted to. She could see it in his eyes, and that was enough for her. For tonight.
“And there’s homework to be done, and dinner to be made,” she added. “I understand, Matt. It’s okay.” She put her hands on her hips and teased, “Besides, I don’t remember inviting you in!”
He leaned forward, his fingers stroking her cheek, her jawline. “You talk too much,” he whispered, before brushing her mouth with his, effectively silencing her, and then disappearing up the driveway toward the street.
TALK TOO MUCH? Laura was still shaking her head the next morning as she made her bed. Matt had the wrong sister. Although Laura earned her living by talking, Alison was the one who never shut up!
She looked out the window at the new day, feeling just as sunny inside as the world looked outside. Her fingers stroked her bottom lip where Matt’s touch still lingered, whether in her memory or in reality, she didn’t care. What mattered was that he’d contributed to her feeling of well-being. Sure, a sound night’s sleep had helped, but the reaffirmation of her looks, her femininity, her desirability—well, what price could she put on that?
She hummed as she straightened up the room, happy with yesterday but also looking forward to the day ahead. She’d put her library idea into motion. The thought intrigued her because she’d never actually done any reading to children. Children were not part of her everyday world. As much as she loved her niece and nephew, they lived in Atlanta, so their visits were short and intense, not leisurely sojourns dotted with visits to the library.
Wearing only a lightweight navy-blue sweatsuit, Laura got into her car and headed west. The William Adams Library sat in the middle of Sloop Street, a major east-west thoroughfare parallel to Main and one block south, not far from Bart Quinn’s office. The two-story brick building, set back from the street, was dark red—typical of New England. It looked like a large Tudor-style home. An American flag waved in the breeze from a pole in the center of its circular driveway. Laura ignored that driveway option and pulled into the adjacent parking lot, then walked on the connecting sidewalk to the front door and opened it.
Had she been blindfolded, she would have still recognized her surroundings immediately. The sounds of soft murmurs and the occasional �
��hush,” the acrid smell of paper mixed with a bit of dust, the atmosphere of quiet work, of expectation. Of being in a special place.
And then she looked around. Some memories about libraries were instantly vanquished. Bright colors were everywhere—red, yellow, green and blue—painted walls, large posters, big signs. A parents’ corner, a teachers’ space, a young-adult section. A generous computer area. And above the staircase, huge murals indicating the Children’s Section on the second floor. Laura headed for the steps and almost crashed into Lou Goodman.
“Wow. Sorry,” she whispered, grabbing his arm. “Maybe I need glasses. Your next breakfast is on me.”
“I’m fine,” said the retired librarian. “So why the rush to get upstairs?”
She glanced at the mural. “I want to volunteer to read at a children’s story hour if possible—if story hours are on the agenda here.”
Lou Goodman’s eyes opened wide. “That’s wonderful. You’re really becoming part of the community now, my dear. Maybe you’ll like us so much, you’ll want to stay on.”
She swallowed hard as a wave of guilt passed through her. Her motivation for offering her services was strictly selfish. She wanted to land that narrator job. “Can’t I be part of the community on a temporary basis?” she asked in a small voice. Lou Goodman was one of the good guys in her life here. She just couldn’t deceive him.
“Of course you can.” Lou leaned closer to her. “In fact,” he whispered, “most volunteers start out enthusiastic and after a month, the excitement wanes and they appear less often. So we’ll gratefully accept whatever time you can give us.”
She looked into the gentle man’s warm brown eyes and knew that Lou wasn’t that type of volunteer.
“How often do you help out?” she asked as they climbed the stairs together.
“Oh, I get involved with special projects,” he said. “Like the annual book sale that raises extra funds, or the homework-help service.”
“I bet you never back down from a commitment here,” she said.
He didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to. Laura knew the answer. Lou Goodman loved books; retirement hadn’t changed that.
House on the Beach Page 9
