Season of Angels (9781101612170)

by Kinkade, Thomas; Spencer, Katherine

  “So, was it worth a few sore muscles?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. What a spectacular view! I feel like I’m sitting on a cloud,” he said, staring down at the water and beach below. “But I wouldn’t come up here on a windy day.”

  “Not without a parachute,” she agreed.

  He laughed and placed his hands on her shoulders. “A parachute is a great idea. Do you have one handy? We could ride down together and skip that long hike back down the hillside.”

  She turned to face him and found herself in his arms. “No . . . I don’t. I guess I’m not that great a guide, after all.”

  A few wisps of her hair blew across her face, and he brushed them aside with his hand. When she saw him clearly again, he was smiling down at her, and she felt as though they were the only two people in the world.

  “Don’t say that. I think you’re the perfect guide. I think you’re just plain . . . perfect,” he said quietly.

  He dipped his head toward her and kissed her, softly at first and then deeper, holding her very close and tight.

  Tess felt herself melting against him, his kiss feeling so exciting and new and at the same time so familiar and right. She had never felt this close to anyone before, as if they shared the same thoughts and feelings. The same way of seeing the entire world.

  She wasn’t sure how long their kiss went on, but when he slowly pulled back, her head was spinning. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  “A little breathless . . . but in a good way.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted. He leaned forward and hugged her tight a moment. “Thanks for daring me to come up here, Tess. Thanks for a spectacular day.”

  Tess didn’t think he had anything to thank her for. But it was sweet of him to say that.

  Jonathan put his arm around her shoulder, and they gazed at the view a few more moments. Finally it seemed the right time to return to his car and go back to the inn.

  “Well, shall we start back down? Ladies first, I guess,” he said, returning to the top of the path they had taken.

  “Don’t worry, there’s another way we can go, and we’ll end up on the road, near the car.”

  Tess brought him to another path that led away from the cliff and the shoreline, over a few sandy dunes and up to the road. They still had to walk to his car, but it was much easier going than hiking back along the beach, especially since the tide had started to come in again and would have blocked their way.

  “Oh, this is good. I’m glad you knew of this way, too,” he said. Then after a moment or two, he stopped. “Wait a minute . . . you mean, we could have just driven the car over and walked out on those dunes to the top of the cliff?”

  She nodded. “Yep, but it sort of ruins the fun. Anyone can go that way. Don’t you want to blaze new trails?”

  He stared at her a moment and she thought he was angry, feeling annoyed that she had made him work so hard. Then he leaned his head back and laughed. “Yes, I do. Promise me that when we come back here, you won’t let me take the easy way.”

  “Okay, I promise,” Tess said, feeling happy inside again that he was seeing her in his future.

  They drove back to the inn without saying much. Tess felt pleasantly tired and exhilarated from their hike and from their entire afternoon.

  “Would you like to come in and visit awhile?” he said when they reached the inn. “I’m sure Claire would make us some tea. Or I could make some for you.”

  “Thanks, but I have to get back home. I had a wonderful time today, Jonathan.”

  “So did I . . .” His voice trailed off as he stared into her eyes. “When will I see you again? Will you be at Lilac Hall tomorrow?”

  “Yes, my hours start at ten. Look for me when you get there.”

  “I will . . . good-bye, Tess. See you.” He leaned over and kissed her, quickly this time.

  Tess touched his cheek and then got into her car. She had to take a moment to clear her head so she could drive.

  She knew that part of her was still on the summit of the angel wing cliffs, with Jonathan’s arms around her. Feeling as if they were floating on a cloud.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sam didn’t pick up his cell or the phone in his shop on Monday morning, so Adele left a message.

  “I’m just about to go, Sam. You told me to give you a call. I want to thank you and Jessica again for such a beautiful day yesterday. Please give the kids a big kiss for me. You must all come to see me very soon in Vermont. You can go skiing. The boys would love that,” she added. “Okay, good-bye now, dear. I’ll let you know when I get home.”

  Claire had already carried Adele’s bags down from her room after breakfast and stowed them in the trunk of Adele’s Subaru. She was just coming inside again and met Adele in the entry hall, near the big antique coat tree and mirror. Adele checked that she had all the cold-weather clothes she came with—her hat, gloves, and scarf—which had all come in handy during her walks on the beach.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay another day or two? The Christmas Fair committee will definitely miss you,” Claire said.

  Last week Adele had filled in some of her idle hours helping Claire and a group of other church members prepare for the annual Christmas Fair. Adele had enjoyed making the crafts that would be sold, and even more, catching up with some of her old friends, like Sophie Potter and Vera Plante. She and George had joined a church in Vermont, but it was not nearly the spiritual home that Reverend Ben’s congregation had always been.

  “I would love to stay longer, Claire, but I just heard another forecast this morning that a storm is on the way. I don’t want to get stuck down here. I’d better take advantage of the good weather and get on the road while I can.”

  “I understand. I was just hoping I could tempt you to change your mind,” Claire confessed. “And I was going to make your favorite for dinner tonight, crab cakes,” she added.

  “That’s not fair,” Adele said with a laugh. “You and Liza have spoiled me rotten this past week. I don’t know how I’ll ever put up with my own cooking again . . . and I’m fattening up like the proverbial Christmas goose,” she added, making Claire smile. “That’s another reason I have to go.”

  “We’ll miss you, Adele. You must come back very soon and stay longer next time.” Claire leaned over and gave her a hug.

  “I’ll try.” Adele heard someone on the steps and turned to see Liza.

  “Adele, are you leaving already? I’m glad I didn’t miss you. I hope you had a good stay.”

  “It was perfect, dear. You’ve done wonders with this place. You’re a born innkeeper. Your aunt and uncle would have been so proud. In fact, I’m sure they’re up in heaven somewhere, just beaming.”

  “Thank you, Adele. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.” She hugged Adele good-bye.

  When Adele stepped back, Claire held out a basket covered with a blue-and-white checked cloth. Now where had that come from? She seemed to be a magician at times.

  “A little something to tide you over on the road. It’s a long trip, and the food at those road stops generally isn’t very healthy.”

  “Or very edible,” Liza added, more to the point.

  “That’s so thoughtful. I will enjoy this.” Adele was sure of it. Though it would make her feel a little wistful, missing this place even more as she traveled homeward.

  But she missed her own bed and her own snug little house, too, she reminded herself. Back to her place she must go. “Well, time to get my show on the road. Good-bye now . . .”

  Claire and Liza walked out with her, and Claire helped her down the porch steps to her car and saw that she was safely inside with her seat belt secured.

  “Now remember, if you feel tired at all, just pull over and rest. Will you give us a call when you get home, just so we know you
got there safe and sound?”

  Adele promised that she would and finally started the engine and pulled down the drive. She saw Claire and Liza in the rearview mirror, waving good-bye to her.

  Adele drove down the main road, headed for the land bridge. She suddenly felt a little teary, all of her dashed hopes and failed plans gathering like dark clouds in her heart, though the sky above was clear and crystal blue.

  Oh, God . . . I’m bringing home failure after all. I didn’t expect that . . . But maybe I deserve it, ignoring this problem for so long . . .

  But her heartfelt prayer was abruptly interrupted by an awful sound. Her little car hopped and swerved on the road and she quickly pulled over. She parked on the sandy shoulder and pressed on her warning lights. Slowly, she got out of the car and walked around to the back to see what had happened.

  A rear tire had blown out. It wasn’t just a simple flat but a huge tear on the tire’s wall. It looked as if it had exploded. She glanced back on the road to see if she had driven over something that caused the damage. But she didn’t see a thing.

  How odd. She’d had the car checked by her mechanic before this trip, to make sure everything was in order. She knew he checked the oil, antifreeze, and brakes. Didn’t he look at the tires, too?

  Well, there wasn’t much she could do about it. She was able to change a tire at one time in her life but wouldn’t even attempt to look for the jack now. Besides, this was more than a quick fix. She knew that she didn’t have a full-size spare in her trunk, just the emergency donut tire that came with the car. That certainly wouldn’t get her all the way back to Vermont. It would barely get the car into the village to a service station.

  She got back in the car, pulled out her cell phone, and called the now-familiar number. Liza picked up on the second ring. “The Inn at Angel Island. May I help you?”

  “Liza, it’s Adele. I didn’t get very far. I’m just a few miles down the road, actually. I’ve had some car trouble. One of my rear tires blew out. Could you please come and get me?”

  “Oh, Adele, what a shame. Of course I’ll be right there. We’ll have to call a tow truck from the village. There’s no mechanic on the island, but we’ll figure all that out once we get you back here.”

  Adele was sure they would. So, she would have more time in Cape Light after all, despite her plan to go. She would have crab cakes for dinner and take part in the work of the Christmas Fair committee tonight.

  Beyond that, who could say?

  * * *

  “We called you right away, Molly, but we didn’t know how to stop it. We put a bucket under there, but all the sheet cakes got wet.”

  Molly had come running to the shop this morning after an urgent call from her assistant manager, Sonya. A leak had sprung sometime during the early morning, and now a steady stream of water poured down from the ceiling at the back of the shop.

  “I called the plumber, but I just got the answering service. I guess he’ll call back soon . . .”

  “Don’t worry, Sonya. You did what you could.” Molly had pulled off her jacket, her gaze stuck on the leaky spot. “I doubt it’s a pipe. There’s no plumbing back there. It must be a rotten spot in the roof or something. I guess that little dusting of snow we got this week is up there melting.”

  “Oh, right. I didn’t know who to call for that.”

  Molly smiled grimly. “I do.”

  She owned the building now, so there was no more complaining to a landlord about repairs. She did know someone who could fix this disaster in the blink of an eye . . . if he wanted to.

  Her brother, Sam, of course.

  In the past, he would drop everything and ride to her rescue, no matter what the situation. Especially when she had been a single mother, working two jobs, and Lauren and Jillian had been so young. Her parents had done their best to help, but Sam had been the one, the only one, who was always there for her.

  She sighed. She had been hard on him, and it was time to apologize. A sincere apology this time, not the halfhearted one she had tried to pull off on Friday. Sam had seen through that easily.

  No pain, no gain, she reminded herself. No patched roof, either, the dripping sound reminded her.

  She picked up her phone and called his cell. He picked up on the second ring. “This is Sam.”

  “It’s me, Molly . . . Can you hear me?” He sounded like he was on a construction site somewhere. The sound of banging hammers and male voices filled the background.

  “I can hear you. What’s up?” His tone was curt, but at least he hadn’t hung up on her. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  “I . . . I need your help. There’s a huge leak in the back of the shop. I’m pretty sure it’s coming from the roof. There was a bad spot up there that was patched about two years ago, when we bought the place.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  He had looked the building over, along with the official inspector, and told her back then that she needed a new roof. She was glad that he didn’t say “I told you so” now.

  “Well . . . you were right,” she said, hoping to get on his good side. “We did need that roof job and now I’m paying for it. It’s making a gigantic mess, Sam. We already lost a day of baking and a lot of money in wasted supplies.”

  She heard her brother sigh. “I have to stop at the shop to get some roofing material. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you!” she said, nearly collapsing in relief. “You are the best brother ever!”

  “Right,” Sam said with what sounded like a weary laugh. Then he hung up.

  * * *

  Sam had been surprised but relieved to hear his sister’s voice on the phone. He’d been thinking about calling her. He knew he had to apologize for his behavior on Friday when Molly had come to his shop. Grandma Addie had encouraged him to take that step, and he knew it was the right thing to do. Because now he could also understand better how his father and brother had sat with their anger so long that it hardened into its present unyielding state.

  He pulled up in front of Molly’s shop and went around to the rear door. She was holding a rubber bucket and opened the door with her free hand.

  “I’m so glad you came. Thanks a million,” she said sincerely as she led the way inside. Sure enough, a steady stream of water was coming through the ceiling. “It’s even worse than when I called you,” Molly said with a groan. “If the Board of Health decides to stop by unannounced, they could close me right down.”

  “You could stall them with a few croissants,” Sam suggested.

  He reached up and poked the leak with a screwdriver, and even more water rushed down. “It’s the roof,” he said, confirming their guess. “I’ll get the extension ladder and check it out. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  She nodded bleakly. “Okay, do what you have to do.”

  A little over an hour later, Sam came back down. The leak had stopped and the bad spot was patched. “That will hold it for a few months, depending on the weather. But it’s also a low spot, and you have to get a real roof guy over here.”

  “Will do. You recommend someone, and I’ll call him right away.”

  “Aren’t we Miss Agreeable today?” Sam teased.

  “We are,” she promised him. “How about I make you one of those chicken and cheese panini things you like? I’m sure you had to skip lunch to get over here so quickly.”

  “I did,” he admitted. “All right, I guess I at least deserve a free meal out of this.”

  Molly set a place for him at the end of the metal worktable. She served him a toasty, plump sandwich stuffed with roast chicken, tomato, and arugula and oozing with melted cheese and some secret dressing he couldn’t quite identify.

  “How is it?” she asked after he took a bite.

  “Real good, thanks.”

 
“So . . . are we friends again? Or at least . . . siblings?”

  “I’m willing to wipe the slate clean if you are. I know you don’t agree about Dad and Uncle Kevin, and I don’t see it the way you do. But if we stay mad at each other, we’re sort of repeating that unhappy chapter of family history. That seems pretty dumb to me.”

  “I thought of that, too. It is dumb. Let’s not do that, Sam. We’re smarter than that, don’t you think? You and I have butted heads since we were kids. But that’s just our way. You know, like baby goats playing on a hillside.”

  “Baby goats?” He made a face at her. “How am I like a baby goat?” He was trying not to laugh while he ate, but it was a challenge.

  “Oh, you know what I mean. What I’m trying to say is, even though we argue from time to time, it doesn’t mean anything. We never really get mad. But this time . . . this time was different. It felt so scary . . . and final,” she admitted. “You know, when I saw that leak I wanted to call you, but I knew you were probably still mad at me, and I just felt so awful,” she managed in a faltering tone. A tone that was very un-Molly, he knew. “I was thinking about all the times I used to call you when I was first divorced. The slightest little problem would come up and I would be crying on the phone. And you would come, no matter what you were doing. You’d come and help me.”

  “They weren’t little problems,” Sam said gently. “The way I remember it, you were strong and independent, and you didn’t call unless things got pretty rough. Besides, I never minded helping you and the girls. You know that. I enjoyed it. It gave me good practice before I got married and became a father.”

  “Sometimes I think you got married just so you had an excuse not to help me so much.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed, smiling. “But don’t tell Jess I said that.” Sam had finished his sandwich and now set the plate aside.

  “How about some dessert? I just finished icing the mini-carrot cakes—”