Hearts at Home

by Lori Copeland

  He rubbed his hands together. “You tend to your knittin’ and let me worry about the ferry. Ain’t never sunk a boat yet—and you tell the town that anytime they want to go to the mainland, just give me the word.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, content to gaze upon the crackling fire and dream of the days ahead. “This ought to be fun.”

  “Only a fool hen would want to drive a ferry in February.” With that pronouncement, Cleta stood and left the room.

  Chapter Six

  Sitting in the warm kitchen of Frenchman’s Fairest, Annie wrapped her hands around a mug of fragrant tea and wondered when she would stop thinking of the room as Olympia’s kitchen. By all rights it should belong to Caleb, for he’d done all the cooking for as long as Annie could remember.

  The aging butler stood at the sink now, washing up the last of the breakfast dishes.

  “It’s not like I live here,” she said, launching into yet another recap of her situation. Somehow it helped to verbalize her options aloud. “I’ve lived in Portland for the last five years. And if things develop with A.J., I might be living in New York within a few months. Heavenly Daze will seem a world away.”

  “Ayuh.” Caleb cast a grin over his shoulder. “But sometimes we miss the places we aren’t able to visit. We grow homesick.”

  Annie bit her lip, considering his comment. Would she ever be homesick for Heavenly Daze? Maybe in fall, when the island glowed with autumnal colors and the scent of wood smoke filled the air. Most of the tourists had departed by Columbus Day, and from October on Heavenly Daze was pure delight.

  Then again, the tourists weren’t totally terrible. They descended upon the island in the spring and livened things up so much it was sometimes hard to remember that only twenty-five year-round residents lived on the island—twenty-seven, now that Salt had gained custody of his two grandchildren. And summer on Heavenly Daze was wonderful, sunny and boisterous by day and blessedly cool and quiet at night. Growing up on the island, Annie had always thought the wind rocked everyone to sleep, for no matter how many people crowded into the bed-and-breakfast guest rooms, the island and everything on it seemed to whisper at sundown and murmur into the night.

  Even winter on Heavenly Daze held its charms. Where else could you stand by the frozen shore and feel like nothing but thousands of diamond stars stood between you and God?

  If she sold the house and left Heavenly Daze, she’d probably never come back except for funerals. After all, Caleb wouldn’t live forever. Neither would Vernie, Birdie and Bea, or Cleta and Floyd. The Grahams and the Klackenbushes were younger, but they hadn’t lived here during Annie’s childhood, so they weren’t as close to her as the others.

  She sipped her tea, grateful for Caleb’s silence. He was allowing her to figure this one out for herself, and she appreciated him trusting her judgment enough not to give unwanted advice. Yet … though she’d usually resented Olympia’s unsolicited comments, the woman had always painted things in black and white.

  Annie lowered her mug, then propped her chin in her hand. A little black-and-white advice would be welcome about now. Things were too gray for her taste.

  Selling the house would enable her to finance a decent burial for her aunt. Hiring a ship to search for the casket would cost a fair amount of mitten money, but the house would need to be repaired and spruced up before she could sell it. The roof needed replacing, the floors needed supporting, and the entire exterior needed caulking and a couple of coats of paint.

  Then again, how could she sell the house and leave Caleb to face new owners? Worse yet, what if the new owners didn’t want to employ an aged butler who shuffled around in twenty-year-old slippers?

  “Caleb,” she shifted her gaze to the old man, “have you been happy on Heavenly Daze?”

  He looked at her, his eyes widening. “Of course, Annie. I’m always happy doing the Lord’s will.”

  “But how did you know you were following the Lord’s will? I mean, it’s not like he writes things on the wall these days.”

  Caleb laughed softly. “He told me to come here.”

  “God spoke to you?”

  “And I listened. You will hear him, too, if you listen for his voice.”

  Frowning, she looked away. Caleb had always seemed closer to God than anyone else she knew. While it seemed almost reasonable to believe God did speak to the old man, it had been some time since he had spoken to Annie.

  “I’m glad you’re asking about these things.” Caleb pulled out a chair. “I need to tell you something.”

  Afraid of what she might hear, she watched him sit down. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  He chuckled. “I never get sick.”

  “Then … what?”

  “I’ll be leaving soon.” His words dropped into the warmth of the kitchen with the weight of stones in still water. Unable to believe what she’d heard, Annie sat perfectly still for a moment, then forced out a reply. “You’re leaving?”

  He nodded. “I was sent here to serve Missy, and now that she’s gone home, I expect to be transferred to another post. You’re not to worry,” his eyes twinkled, “for the Lord will continue to keep his hand upon anyone who lives in this special place. But don’t let concern for me cloud your thinking about your future. I know I’ll be moving on by the end of the month.”

  Annie stared wordlessly at him, her heart pounding. Had Olympia’s death unhinged him? Aside from his occasional odd comments Caleb had never shown any serious sign of mental instability, but he had never lost two dear people in such a short time. Perhaps grief had ravaged his mind.

  If so, she would need to treat him with loving firmness, as if he were a child and she the parent. Taking a deep breath, she forced a note of sternness into her voice. “You can’t go, Caleb, so don’t even think about it. I don’t mean to sound unkind, but you’re too old to accept another post.”

  Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, child, but completely unnecessary. Don’t let this aging body deceive you—I will serve many more years before my work is complete.”

  “Caleb, you’re talking crazy. I don’t know how much Aunt Olympia paid you, but you should think about retiring. If I sell the house, I could set you up with a retirement fund—”

  “I don’t need money. My reward comes from doing the will of the Father.”

  “But your needs are on earth, right? You’ve worked your fingers to the bone in this place, so you deserve something for your efforts. I could sell the house. I’ll split the proceeds with you and you could get a little apartment in Ogunquit, if you want to stay in the area—”

  The shrill ringing of the kitchen phone interrupted, and Caleb rose to answer it. While she waited, the butler croaked out a greeting, then winked and handed her the phone.

  The caller had to be A.J.

  She accepted the phone, then smiled when Caleb discreetly slipped from the room.

  “Hey,” she murmured into the receiver. “Thanks for calling. I need to talk to somebody rational, and I think Caleb’s slipped a gear.”

  “Really?” A.J.’s voice rang with surprise. “He seemed to have his act together at the funeral.”

  “I think maybe it’s a delayed stress reaction or something. He just told me he plans to leave Heavenly Daze and take another job.”

  A.J. laughed. “Maybe he’s hinting that he’d like to go with you when you come to New York.”

  Annie gripped the phone cord. A.J. had never said anything about her moving to New York, so his comment was either a roundabout proposal … or something she was misinterpreting entirely.

  “Well,” she injected a coy note into her voice, “I’m not so sure I’ll be moving to New York. I hear the weather’s terrible up there.”

  Warm baritone laughter rang over the line. “And you think the weather’s better in Maine? Honey, you’ve been on that island too long. You need to come back to civilization.”

  “I’d be happy to … if I had the righ
t motivation. Right now I’m perfectly content to rattle around in this big, old house.”

  “Would a pair of warm slippers by the fire be motivation enough? Maybe some Kenny G on the CD player, and a nice dinner for two on TV trays?”

  Grinning, Annie ran her hand over the worn vinyl tablecloth. “New York doesn’t sound terribly romantic. I could have all those things right here in Frenchman’s Fairest.”

  “But you couldn’t have tickets to a Broadway show … or a gallant young doctor to squire you around Times Square. If you come to New York, you could have all of the above for only $19.99 and the answer yes.”

  “If the answer is yes,” Annie clenched the phone cord until her nails cut into her palm, “what, exactly, is the question?”

  A.J. paused, and in the silence Annie could hear her heart thumping. “The question,” he finally said, “would have to be, ‘Will you move to New York so we can spend more time together … and see what the future might hold?’”

  Exhaling, Annie resisted a sudden stab of disappointment. What had she expected after six weeks of dating, an outright proposal? She and A.J. had been out only a few times.

  At least he hadn’t asked her to move in with him. Too many of her friends thought nothing of living with a man before marriage, but Annie knew she’d never be able to do that. She was no angel, but she did know that a godly relationship ought to begin with respect and commitment, not sex and cohabitation.

  She was not so much in love that A.J. Hayes should start counting his chickens, but the man had seemed awfully cocky when he posed the question about moving.

  “I’m not sure the answer is yes,” she said, her voice cool. “I’ve been toying with the idea of staying in Heavenly Daze. After all, I now own a house here. Why should I pay rent in Portland when I can own waterfront property on an island?”

  “Come on, Annie.” She thought she heard a note of exasperation in his voice. “Surely you aren’t serious.”

  “Why not? This isn’t the edge of the world, you know. I grew up here, and it is a nice place.”

  “But it’s so isolated! My plane can’t land there, and you know what a disaster that ferry is. I don’t even like to visit my father on that God-forsaken island, so how can you expect …”

  His voice trailed away, but Annie had already intuited his unspoken thought—If I won’t visit my father, why would you expect me to visit you?

  Apparently Dr. Alex Hayes wasn’t as deeply in love as she had first thought.

  He sighed into the phone. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. But you’re not seriously thinking about keeping that place, are you? It’s not easy to take care of a two-hundred-year-old mausoleum.”

  “It’s not a mausoleum, it’s a historic residence.” She tugged on the phone cord. “I know it’d be hard to maintain, but I can’t imagine selling Aunt Olympia’s house. She loved this place, and she wanted me to have it.”

  “But she left it to you, knowing that you live in Portland. Honestly, Annie, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about selling it. Your aunt knew you were an independent woman.”

  “Ayuh, she did. But I know how much she loved Heavenly Daze, how proud she was to belong here. If I sell, there won’t be any descendants of Jacques de Cuvier left on the island.”

  “Descendants of who?”

  “Of whom. Jacques de Cuvier was the sea captain who founded the town.”

  “Like he really cares if you stay there.”

  “I don’t know—he might. Caleb keeps telling me that people in heaven are watching us down here.”

  A.J. snorted. “Annie, honey, come on! You’re just a little confused because of the funeral, that’s all. Once you’re back in Portland, you’ll see things more clearly. You’ll realize how hard it is to manage a property from long-distance, and you’ll discover that even selling the place will be a challenge. You’ll be lucky to get a hundred grand for it.”

  Annie blew out her cheeks, then rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “A.J., I really don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “Okay. So—what else is new?”

  She cast about for another topic of conversation and came up empty. “Not much.”

  “Nothing ever happens on that island. Okay, sweetie, I’ve got to go. Give my dad a hug for me when you see him, okay? And come back to the real world soon. I miss you.”

  Annie blinked away a sudden surge of tears. “I miss . . everybody.”

  And as she hung up the phone, she wondered if she really missed A.J… . or only the way things used to be.

  Chapter Seven

  After rising with the sun, Annie dressed in a sweater and jeans, then pulled on her slicker and headed out to the beach with Tallulah. No one was stirring at the dock at this early hour, but the lights gleamed from Birdie’s Bakery, where Abner Smith would be piping out doughnuts in preparation for the morning coffee crowd.

  Tallulah paused at the intersection of Ferry Road and Main Street, then whimpered softly.

  “You don’t want to go with me to the beach?”

  The dog dropped onto her belly, then brought both paws over her nose. The adorable action tore at Annie’s heart. What was going to happen to Tallulah? For sure the old dog wouldn’t relish living in Annie’s apartment with her cat. After the freedom of Heavenly Daze, apartment life would seem like prison to the outgoing terrier.

  “Too cold, huh? Okay, girl, run along to see Abner. He just might have a treat for you.”

  Tallulah didn’t need to be told twice. She rose and trotted off at a brisk clip, leaving Annie alone. She gazed wistfully after the dog—why was it that her aunt’s dog had no trouble making decisions, while she couldn’t even decide when she should return to Portland?

  She had not slept during the night, but tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity. Stretched out on her right side, she convinced herself to sell Frenchman’s Fairest; when she turned onto her left side, she thought she should keep the house no matter what. Rolling onto her belly, with her face buried in her arms, she worried about Olympia floating all the way to England; flat on her back and staring at the ceiling, she tried to imagine Olympia in heaven, contentedly playing a harp.

  How was a woman supposed to find balance in life?

  She looked up as a bell jangled in the morning silence—Abner was opening the bakery door to let Tallulah in. He looked up and waved at Annie; stiffly, she pulled her hand from her pocket and returned the greeting.

  What was it with the Smith men? Nothing ever ruffled them. And whenever you had a problem, you could count on one of the Smith guys to send you straight to the heavenly throne room for help.

  She felt a twinge of guilt as she walked toward the beach. She’d been fretting and worrying for days, but hadn’t honestly offered her petition to the Lord.

  Alone on the beach, she huddled inside her overcoat and trudged over the damp sand. The southwestern shore offered the only sandy beach on Heavenly Daze, for the northern and eastern coasts were too rocky to allow for easy walking. But the windward side had been worn smooth over the years, and she liked the way the wet sand shifted ever so slightly beneath her rubber boots, then held firm. It was a good place for thinking … and even better for praying.

  “Dear God,” she lifted her eyes to the cloudy skies above the watery horizon, “if ever I needed advice and guidance, I need it now. I don’t know what to do, and thinking only makes me more confused. My head tells me to do one thing, but my heart tells me to do something else.”

  Her head was telling her to sell the house and take the money. With a decent sales price for the estate she could make sure Caleb had enough to buy a little place in Ogunquit then search for Olympia, bury her next to Edmund, and buy a really nice monument for both of them. Olympia had displayed a fondness for monuments, evidenced most particularly by the bronze marker on the lawn of Frenchman’s Fairest. Practically every building on the island had some historic significance, but Olympia had been the only resident who felt compelled to erect a s
ign on her property.

  So selling the house would be a good thing.

  On the other hand, what would Dr. Marc do if she sold the house? Olympia and Edmund had offered their detached guest cottage to serve as the island doctor’s residence and office, but the new owner of Frenchman’s Fairest might have other ideas for the building. That would leave Dr. Marc without a place to live and work, and Heavenly Daze without a clinic.

  She frowned, then shook the notion away. The town would have to take care of itself. Birdie would be getting married soon, so perhaps Dr. Marc could move in with Beatrice.

  The thought brought a smile to Annie’s chapped lips. Bea would up and faint before she’d even entertain the idea of living with a man, even platonically, so Dr. Marc would have to move in with Cleta and Floyd and set up an office in one of their guest rooms. That’d undoubtedly cut into their income during tourist season, but if Barbara and Russell moved out, the doctor could have their rooms—

  If Barb and Russ ever moved out.

  Annie stared out at the sea, trying to imagine her life without the people of Heavenly Daze. She knew the islanders as well as she knew the inside of her palm. Though life might take the girl off the island, she doubted it could ever take the island out of the girl.

  Shivering, she hunched lower in her jacket as the wind whipped over the beach. New York was a wonderful place to visit, Portland was nice and clean, but could she live away from the sea? And the appeal of Heavenly Daze involved far more than sea and shore, for it had always been the nest to which she flew home to rest. Life without that nest would be like living in a house with no bedroom.

  So she should keep the house. But how was she supposed to pay for its maintenance? Her teacher’s salary barely kept her afloat in Portland. The Durpee Seed Company bonus for which she’d been working would never materialize now that her tomatoes had proven inedible.

  She could take a second job, but there was no work to be found on the island in winter, and only the Lobster Pot required extra employees in the summer. If she worked two jobs in Portland, she’d never have time to visit Heavenly Daze and enjoy the property she was desperately striving to keep.