by Geri Krotow
Paul’s eyes flashed with intensity and Serena stiffened.
His laughter rumbled across the room. It was deep and sincere. She’d never heard Jonas laugh like this—did he ever indulge in a real belly laugh?
“Serena, Jonas is a dreamer. He’s the one who had to get off island, go see the world. The rest of us have been very happy here and none of us expected to get anything from either of our parents. Dottie was the best of all stepmothers. We couldn’t have asked for more.”
“But the house—you all have memories there. Jonas most of all, being the youngest.”
Paul’s brows rose and he gazed out the huge window at the water that was at least fifty feet below the edge of land where the firm’s building perched.
“Yes, but we also knew Dottie. We trusted her. She was the best judge of character I’ve ever known. And she trusted you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s that.” He returned his gaze to her. “Will Jonas be pissed that I hired you? He could be, but he’ll get over it.”
Serena didn’t think so, and she wasn’t sure how much Paul knew about Jonas’s recent real estate purchases. She assumed Paul was the brother he’d given power of attorney to. Paul probably knew everything, but she couldn’t break client-attorney privilege to ask. Anyway, it would be rude to put him on the spot.
“Thank you, Paul. I appreciate your support.”
“No problem. Now, let’s go meet the team.”
Serena stood up to follow Paul out to the offices. She, too, could have an office here if she wanted.
One of her first loves—the law—was closer than it had been in years.
* * *
SERENA WALKED OUT of Paul Scott’s law firm and headed for downtown Oak Harbor, her heart heavy. The interview had gone well and Paul had offered her the job on the spot; her skills in family law were needed and would be well-compensated.
Exhilaration at knowing she was still in the game bubbled up from deep inside. She’d been suffering from doubts about her career viability after being home with Pepé for the past couple of years.
But the enthusiasm she had been feeling when she walked in the door had been chased away by anxiety the minute she saw the other lawyers. They’d all stepped out of their offices to greet her, and it was the friendliest interview she’d ever had. But they’d been in continuous practice. She’d taken a long break. How could she catch up? Would she? Washington State laws differed from Texas. She had a lot to learn, as her courses for the Washington State exam had revealed.
And the other problem that gnawed at her... Had she gotten through the past few years, settled in a new place, only to go back to a high-paying legal career that would leave her exhausted at the end of the week, wondering if she’d made a difference or not?
True, the lawyers at the firm didn’t look overworked or stressed. Paul had insisted she’d name her own caseload—no questions asked, no repercussions. She was free to earn as much as she needed to support herself and Pepé, but also able to take off time to be there for him. She’d never have to miss a school function or a soccer match.
Could she let go of the competitive attorney she’d once been? Could she settle for “good enough”? Losing Phil had certainly realigned her expectations. She hadn’t been able to go back to work as quickly as she’d hoped, not with the heavy load of grief and dealing with Pepé’s adjustment. It had been her choice to move out to Whidbey, and the fact remained that she was a single mother, which meant Pepé’s needs had to come before many of her own wishes and desires.
She parked in the public lot near the beach and started walking.
The coffee shop one block down had a nice view of City Beach. A cappuccino sounded like the perfect mood-booster. She tightened the belt on her cream wool coat and was grateful she’d worn her tall leather boots. The heels weren’t made for long hikes, but the boots were much warmer than her patent-leather heels would have been in this wind.
They didn’t call it Windy Whidbey for nothing.
The bell over the door jingled when she opened it and it felt as though all eyes in the place turned to focus on her.
You’re just imagining it.
It was hard at first, after Dottie’s death, to ignore the constant stares and whispers. She’d never been under serious suspicion. But the fact that she’d worked at the clinic where Dottie was murdered and was there when the murder actually occurred, that she was a stranger to town and had presented herself as a long-lost relative of the deceased—it had all made for intense gossip fodder.
“Hey, Serena!” Emily Bowman waved at her from a small table where she sat with her laptop open and knitting in her lap.
Serena walked over, removing her cap and gloves.
“Hi, Emily. Multitasking?”
Emily smiled and Serena noticed that the laugh lines had returned to her face. Like Serena, Emily was a widow, but her husband had died almost a decade ago from cancer, only a year into their marriage. Serena and Emily had met in Winnie’s yarn shop and become friends while taking a Fair Isle knitting class at the same time.
Emily worked as a nurse in the base hospital’s labor and delivery unit, but was also a budding knitting designer.
“I have a deadline for my pattern book that’s coming out next year, and the dye lots on some of my merino blend need to be straightened out. When I get tired of the spreadsheets, I knit a few rows. What are you doing today?”
“I’m coming from my job interview. Pepé’s in school, and I didn’t want to go home to the farmhouse quite yet. I’m feeling a little sore from taking down wallpaper in the back laundry room for the past two days.”
“Get a coffee and come and tell me about it. Unless you need some time alone?” Emily was the epitome of grace. Serena placed her at about the same age she was, but Emily didn’t have a child. Yet, judging by the way she warmed up around Pepé, she’d like one of her own someday. Still, Emily never complained, which Serena respected. Her mother and family in Texas had never really learned how to be like that. Everything from family gatherings to major life events always had to measure up to her mother’s expectations. Emily, on the other hand, accepted things as they came. It was a quality Serena hoped to emulate.
“I’d love to. If I’d been thinking about it I would have planned it this way. Do you want anything? I owe you for watching Pepé the other night.”
“You owe me nothing. I’m glad you had a good time. But I’ll take a cappuccino.” Emily grinned.
After Serena got their cappuccinos and was seated in front of Emily, she didn’t know where to begin.
She kept it to business to start with.
“My alpacas are doing well.”
“Are they? Great. I knew you’d enjoy them once you got used to their routine.”
“What routine? They’re worse than puppies. They act as if they’re starved for attention every time we go out there.”
“They have that lovely pasture to enjoy! I really like what you’ve done with the newer parts of the barn, too.”
“That pasture is not as big as I’d first thought it might be.”
“Oh?”
Serena explained to Emily how she’d hoped to purchase the land around Dottie’s homestead but that someone had beaten her to it. She was reluctant to reveal the new landowner’s name, for reasons she didn’t want to examine just yet.
“That’s not a problem for the alpacas. But is it going to bother you every time you walk out there, knowing you’d hoped to have all of that area, clear down to the cliffs?”
Not as much as it bothered Jonas that she had Dottie’s house.
“I can live with it, for now. As long as the owner doesn’t build anything that gets in the way of the view.”
Emily nodded, knitting as she listened. “It always seems great to have a huge chunk of land with no neighbors, but we’
re social animals at heart. We need other people. Have you met the owner yet?”
Serena couldn’t keep this up. “It’s Jonas Scott.”
Emily’s eyes widened and she put her cardigan down. “Now that’s very interesting. Have you had a chance to talk to him, spend any time around him?”
Serena knew her cheeks were red and prayed Emily would blame it on windburn. They hadn’t had an opportunity to sit and talk in ages. When Emily had watched Pepé the other night, she’d insisted Serena get right out the door to have more time to herself.
“He came by to introduce himself right after Thanksgiving. We actually met in the base clinic before that.” She filled Emily in on the details, including seeing him at Winnie’s party.
Emily looked at her. “You didn’t mention that when you came home the other night.”
“Um, no.” She’d still been absorbing her ranges of emotion from the kiss to the kick-in-the gut disappointment when Jonas told her about his land purchase.
“What do you think of him?”
As usual, Emily wasn’t cutting her any slack.
“He’s articulate—a medical professional who appears to care about his patients. He was great with Pepé that day in the clinic and then later, at the house.”
“Cut to the chase, Serena. Do you think he’s hot?”
“Hot? He’s...handsome. To a point. But a bit pushy when he wants something.” She wasn’t going to tell Emily about that kiss. She wasn’t ready to share it with anyone else.
“Wants something like his house back.”
“It was Dottie’s house,” Serena insisted.
“Hey, you’re not telling me anything new. But I’ve known his family for a while, and I run into him at work every now and then, when’s he’s stationed here.”
“And?”
“And I think he’d be a wonderful neighbor.”
Emily’s smile indicated she meant more than the traditional connotation of “neighbor.”
“If you think he’s so attractive, why don’t you ask him out?”
Emily shook her head. “He’s not my type.”
“How would you know? And who are you to encourage me to date when you’re still single after how many years?”
Emily picked her knitting up again. “I’m single because it’s who I am. You have a child, and you’re the marrying type. You scream ‘homemaker.’ Me, I scream ‘crazy cat lady.’”
Serena laughed. Emily had eight cats on her property, three of them living inside her house. The rest had comfortable space in her heated garage.
“Will I see you and Pepé at the Christmas tree farm?”
Emily played Mrs. Claus at the Oak Harbor venue.
“Yes, you will. Pepé can’t wait.”
* * *
SMACK.
The ball sprang from Jonas’s racket to the wall and was hit by Doc, all within a few seconds.
“Ready for it today, I see.” Doc wasn’t trying to distract Jonas, yet Jonas still had to focus to keep his head in the game.
“Always. Bring it.”
He relished the vibration up the shaft of the racket as he slammed the ball back at the wall, forcing Doc to reach in a long lunge for the return. Their voices echoed strangely in the confined space at the base gym.
“How’s it going with Pepé’s mom?”
Doc had taken to calling Serena by her parental role, Jonas noted. As if mentioning her name would bother him.
“Damn it!” He missed the return and shook his head. Sweat was starting to drip between his shoulder blades and his glasses had fogged.
Doc Franklin looked as if he’d hardly broken a sweat.
“That well, huh?”
Jonas palmed the small racquetball and tried to force a grin that didn’t want to happen.
“I blew it. I happen to find her very attractive, but she’s off-limits. She has my house, and I intend to get it back.”
“Here.” Doc held up his hand to catch the ball and start the game again.
After several back and forth jumps across the box of a room, Doc spoke again.
“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Jonas. As the old saying goes...”
“Yeah, well, this bod’s not for sale.”
Doc laughed as he jammed on the ball, making Jonas jump for the return.
“I’m not saying to get involved with her like that, man. She’s new to the island, her only relative here—your stepmom—died. She and her son have to be lonely at times. Fill in the gaps. Let her see you’re a nice guy. Give her a reason to want to sell the house back to you. She cared about Dottie and Dottie obviously adored her— enough to leave her the house. Use it to your advantage.”
Jonas grunted as he kept his eye on the ball. “I’m not one for games. You know me, Doc.”
“Yes, I do, and I know you can charm just about anyone. You’re always the go-to guy for the patients who give us the most trouble with their treatments. Use that talent on this woman. Show her you belong in the house. Her son’s getting older and he’ll want to be closer to town, closer to kids his age. It would be easier on her, too, if he was on a bus route.”
“I never thought about the bus route. How do you know about it?”
Doc grinned. “I bought some land a mile over as an investment, in the same zoning area. All the parents of school-age children drive them into town each morning and then back home in the afternoons. They have a carpool going, but still, it’s a lot of work for a single parent. Does she have a new job yet?”
Thump.
Jonas hadn’t hit that one hard enough and made it an easy target for Doc to strike, forcing Jonas to his knees to save the point.
“She’s a lawyer, but she claims she doesn’t need to work, not right away. My brother Paul wants to hire her.” From what he’d gleaned of Serena’s intelligence, she’d need to go back to work sooner rather than later. Staying home didn’t seem to fit her, and it had to be lonely at Dottie’s place while Pepé was at school.
Dottie’s place.
It wasn’t Dottie’s place anymore. It wasn’t his, either. Not yet....
“Can you at least pretend to give a hoot about the ball, Jonas?”
Jonas blinked. Doc Franklin rarely called him by his first name.
“Sorry. Daydreaming.”
Doc bounced the ball and looked at Jonas with the same expression Jonas had seen when one of the junior staff was missing an obvious symptom.
“Of course, you might not need to scheme and charm the house away from her. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind taking on more than the house?”
Realization shot through Jonas’s crown to the base of his skull.
No. Way.
Like he’d already told Doc, Serena Delgado was off-limits. A: She was in his house because of her deceased aunt’s overgenerous spirit. B: She had a kid. C: Jonas wasn’t ready to get married.
When will you be ready to marry?
“Best of three. Loser buys.” Jonas was talking about beers at the O Club’s happy hour on Friday night as he started a new game and pushed thoughts of Serena out of his mind.
Images of her smile weren’t as easy to shut down....
* * *
“ONE WEEK OF these antibiotics and the strep throat will be a memory. She should start to feel better within a day or so.” Jonas typed in the ’scrip for the sick ten-year-old who sat in the examination room as he spoke to her mother, an active-duty sailor.
“Thanks, Commander. She’s been miserable since last night. It’ll be good to have my happy girl back.” The mother smiled at her daughter, who smiled back.
Just like Serena and Pepé did, all the time.
“Okay, you’re good to go. Stop by the pharmacy and pick up the prescription. Call
me if she’s not feeling better by Monday.”
“Will do. Thanks again.”
Jonas watched them leave, his mind still on Serena and Pepé. He tried to control his obsession by telling himself it was all because of the house.
“Jonas?” Emily Bowman, a nurse in the obstetric ward, stood at the door.
“Hi, Em. How’s it going? Everything all right down there?”
“It’s quiet. We haven’t had a delivery in a few days, if you can believe it.”
Jonas smiled. “That’s bound to change—you’ll have five all at once.”
“You’re probably right,” Emily said with a laugh. She looked away, then back at him. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about Serena. And Pepé.”
Jonas grew still. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine. In fact, I have it on good authority that they may be on the hunt for a Christmas tree tomorrow, and I know Serena’s too proud to ask for help.”
Jonas let his shoulders relax. “What kind of help?”
Emily filled him in.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Whidbey Island
Three weekends before Christmas
SERENA COULDN’T BELIEVE their luck. Not only had they been dusted with snow overnight, but when she and Pepé pulled up to the Christmas tree farm, the snow was still falling. The steam rising from the hot apple cider Mrs. Santa was brewing rose in fluffy wisps from the large slow cooker. Even the Claus family benefitted from modern technology.
She also knew that Mrs. Claus was none other than Emily, who said she got the biggest kick out of watching all the families and children come and haul away their own tree each year. Serena didn’t buy it—she knew that Emily was doing a job few others could spare the time for.
“Mom, there’s Santa!”
Pepé pointed to the small three-sided “cabin” where Santa sat on a large willow-bark rocking chair, posing with kids for their family Santa photo.
“Oh, wow, what a treat! Maybe you can tell him what you want for Christmas, Pepé.”
“He didn’t bring it last year, Mom.”
