Chesapeake Bay Saga 1-4

by Nora Roberts

  She rose, slipped on a robe, and padded in to make coffee and to grab those few minutes of alone time before Aubrey roused.

  Then she sighed and stepped out on her little back porch. She knew her disappointment didn’t stem fromfinding him up and gone when she woke. She’d been sure, so sure he was going to ask her to marry him. All the signs had been there, the scene set, the moment perfect. But the words hadn’t come.

  She’d all but written the script, she thought with a grimace, and he hadn’t followed it. This morning was supposed to begin the next phase of their lives. She’d imagined running over to Julie’s and sharing the joy of it, of calling Anna and babbling, begging for wedding advice.

  Of telling her mother.

  Of explaining it all to Aubrey.

  Instead, it was a quiet morning.

  After a beautiful night, she scolded herself. A lovely night. She had no business complaining about it. Annoyed with herself, she went back inside to pour the first cup of freshly brewed coffee.

  Then she began to chuckle. What had she been thinking of? This was Ethan Quinn she was dealing with. Wasn’t this the same man who’d waited—by his own admission— nearly a decade to so much as kiss her? At the rate he took things, it could be another one before he brought up the subject of marriage.

  The only reason they’d moved from that first kiss to where they stood now was because she . . . well, she’d thrown herself at him, Grace admitted. Plain and simple. And she wouldn’t have had the guts to do that if Anna hadn’t shoved her along.

  Flowers, she thought, turning so that she could smile at them, bright and pretty on her kitchen counter. Candlelight dinner, moonlit walks, and long, tender lovemaking. Yes, he was courting her—and would likely continue to do so until she went mad waiting for him to take the next step.

  But that was Ethan, she admitted, and just one of the things she adored about him.

  She sipped coffee, bit her lip. Why did he have to take the step? Why shouldn’t she be the one to move things along? Julie had told her men liked it when a woman took the initiative. And hadn’t Ethan liked it when she finally worked up the courage to ask him to make love with her?

  She could do some courting herself, couldn’t she? And she could move it along at a faster pace. God knew she was an expert at getting things done on schedule.

  It would only take the courage to ask him. She blew out a breath. She’d have to find that, but she would dig inside herself until she did.

  TEMPERATURES SOARED, and the humidity thickened in a syrupy morass that Cam not so cheerfully dubbed ‘‘fumidity.’’ He workedbelowdecks, trimming out the cabin until the heat sent him topside desperate for fluids and one stingy breeze.

  Though he rarely complained about the working conditions, Ethan was—like Cam—stripped to the waist. Sweat poured as he patiently varnished.

  ‘‘That’s going to take a week to dry, it’s so goddamn damp.’’

  ‘‘Decent storm might blow some of it out.’’

  ‘‘Then I wish to Christ we’d have one.’’ Cam grabbed up the jug and glugged water straight from the lip.

  ‘‘Close weather makes some people edgy.’’

  ‘‘I’m not edgy, I’m hot. Where’s the kid?’’

  ‘‘Sent him for some ice.’’

  ‘‘Good idea. I could take a bath in it. There’s no fucking air down there.’’

  Ethan nodded. Varnishing was a miserable enough job in this weather, but working below in the little cabin where even the big fans couldn’t reach was probably kin toworking in hell. ‘‘Want to switch off for a while?’’

  ‘‘I can do my own goddamn job.’’

  Ethan merely lifted a sweaty shoulder. ‘‘Suit yourself.’’

  Cam gritted his teeth, then hissed. ‘‘Okay, I am edgy. The heat’s frying my brain, and I keep wondering if that alley cat’s gotten Anna’s letter yet.’’

  ‘‘Ought to. It went out Tuesday as soon as the post office broke the holiday. It’s Friday now.’’

  ‘‘I know what day it is, Ethan.’’ Disgusted, Cam swiped sweat off his face and scowled at his brother. ‘‘Aren’t you worried a damn bit about it?’’

  ‘‘It won’t make any difference if I am or not. She’ll do what she’s going to do.’’ His gaze flicked up to Cam’s and was hard as a bunched fist. ‘‘Then we’ll handle it.’’

  Cam paced the deck, caught a whiff of air from the fans, paced back. ‘‘I never could understand how you can stay so calm when things go to hell.’’

  ‘‘Practice,’’ Ethan murmured and kept on varnishing.

  Cam rolled his aching shoulders, drummed his fingers on his thigh. He had to think of something else or he’d go crazy. ‘‘How’d the big date go the other night?’’

  ‘‘Well enough.’’

  ‘‘Jesus, Ethan, do I have to get the pliers?’’

  A smile moved over Ethan’s mouth. ‘‘Had a nice dinner. Drank some of that Pouilly Fuisse Phil’s so wild about. Tastes fine enough, but I don’t see what the big fuss is about.’’

  ‘‘So, you get laid?’’

  Ethan flicked up another glance, took in Cam’s wide grin, and decided to take the question in the spirit it was asked. ‘‘Yeah—did you?’’

  Entertained, if no cooler, Cam threw back his head and laughed. ‘‘Damn, she’s the best thing that ever happened to you. I don’t just mean the sex, though that’s got to be part of what’s perked you up around here lately. The woman fits you like the proverbial glove.’’

  Ethan paused, scratched his belly where sweat dribbled and itched. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Because she’s rock-steady, pretty as a picture, patient as Job, and she’s got enough humor about life to tickle out yours. I guess we’ll be sprucing up the yard for another wedding before long.’’

  Ethan’s fingers tightened on his brush. ‘‘I’m not going to marry her, Cam.’’

  It was the tone as much as the statement that made Cam’s eyes narrow. Quiet despair. ‘‘I guess I could be reading you wrong,’’ Cam said slowly. ‘‘I figured, the way things were moving, you were serious about her.’’

  ‘‘I am serious, about Grace. About a lot of things.’’ He dipped his brush again, watched the clean gold varnish drip. ‘‘Marriage isn’t something I’m looking for.’’

  Ordinarily Cam would have let a subject such as this drop. He’d have walked away from it with a shrug. Your business, brother. But he knew Ethan too well, had loved him too long to walk away from the pain. He crouched by the rail so their faces were closer.

  ‘‘I wasn’t looking for it either,’’ he murmured. ‘‘Scared the hell out me. But when the woman comes into your life, the woman, it’s scarier to let her go.’’

  ‘‘I know what I’m doing.’’

  The dug-in-at-the-heels look didn’t stop Cam. ‘‘You always figure you do. I hope you’re right this time. I sure as hell hope this isn’t some shit that goes back to that ghost-eyed kid Mom and Dad brought home one day. The one who used to wake up screaming at night.’’

  ‘‘Don’t go there, Cam.’’

  ‘‘Don’t you go there, either. Mom and Dad did better by us than that.’’

  ‘‘It has nothing to do with them.’’

  ‘‘It all has everything to do with them. Listen—’’ He broke off with a mild oath as Seth came running in.

  ‘‘Hey, this shit’s already melting.’’

  Cam straightened, scowled over at Seth out of habit rather than heat. ‘‘Didn’t I tell you to find an alternate word for ‘shit’?’’

  ‘‘You say it,’’ Seth pointed out, shifting the bag of ice.

  ‘‘That’s beside the point.’’

  Knowing the routine, Seth dumped the ice into the cooler. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Because Anna’s going to have my ass if you keep it up. And if she has mine, pal, I’ll have yours.’’

  ‘‘Oh, now I’m scared.’’

  ‘‘You oughta be.’’

>   They continued to bicker, Ethan continued the varnish. Tuning them out, concentrating on the job at hand, he locked his unhappiness away.

  SEVENTEEN

  IT WAS GOING TO BE PER fect. It was so obviously right, Grace wondered that she hadn’t thought of it before. A sunset sail on calm seas with skies going pink and gold in the west was a custom-made backdrop for both of them. The Bay was part of their lives, what it offered and what it took.

  She knew it was more than a place where Ethan worked. It was a place he loved.

  It had been easy to arrange. All she’d had to do was ask. He looked surprised, then he smiled. ‘‘I’d forgotten you love to sail,’’ he said.

  She was touched when he’d simply expected that Aubrey would come with them. There would be other times, she thought. A lifetime for the three of them. But this warm and breezy evening would be for the two of them only.

  Giddy laughter continued to rise up in her as she imagined his reaction when she asked him to marry her. She could see it so clearly, the way he would stop, stare at her with surprise in those wonderful blue eyes. She would smile, hold out her hand to him as they glided along with soft wind and dark water. And she would tell himeverything that was in her heart.

  I love you so much, Ethan. I always have and always will. Will you marry me? I want us to be a family. I want to live my life with you. To give you children. To make you happy. Haven’t we waited long enough?

  Then, she knew, that would be the moment his smile would begin. That slow, beautiful smile that moved degree by degree over the planes and shadows of his face, into his eyes. He would probably say something about how he’d intended to ask her. That he’d been getting to it.

  They would both laugh, and they would hold each other as the sun dropped red beyond the shore. And their lives together would really begin.

  ‘‘Where are you sailing off to, Grace?’’

  She blinked, saw Ethan smiling back at her from the wheel. ‘‘Daydreaming,’’ she told him, chuckling at herself. ‘‘Sunset’s the best time for daydreams. It’s so peaceful.’’

  She rose, nestled herself under his arm. ‘‘I’m so glad you can take a few hours off so we can do this.’’

  ‘‘We’re going to have the boat trimmed out within the month.’’ He nuzzled his face in her hair. ‘‘Couple weeks ahead of schedule.’’

  ‘‘You’ve all worked so hard.’’

  ‘‘It’s going to be worth it. The owner was here today.’’

  ‘‘Oh?’’ This was part of it, too, she mused. The easy talk about their days. ‘‘What did he say?’’

  ‘‘Hardly shut up, so it’s hard to know what he said half the time. Spouted off the latest this and that he’d read in his boating magazines, asked enough questions to make your head ring.’’

  ‘‘But did he like it?’’

  ‘‘I figure he was pleased with her, since he grinned like a kid on Christmas morning the whole afternoon. After he left, Cam wanted to bet me that he would run her aground first time out on the Bay.’’

  ‘‘Did you take the bet?’’

  ‘‘Hell, no. He likely will. But you haven’t really sailed the Bay until you’ve run aground.’’

  Ethan wouldn’t, she mused, watching his big, competent hands on the wheel. He sailed clean.

  ‘‘I remember when you and your family were building this sloop.’’ She trailed her fingers over the wheel. ‘‘I was helping out at the waterfront the first time y’all took her out. Professor Quinn was at the wheel and you wereworking the lines. You waved at me.’’ Chuckling, she angled her head to look up at him. ‘‘I was thrilled that you noticed me.’’

  ‘‘I was always noticing you.’’

  She leaned up and kissed his chin. ‘‘But you were careful-not to let me notice you noticing.’’ On impulse she gave his jaw a teasing nip. ‘‘Until lately.’’

  ‘‘I guess I lost my knack for it.’’ He turned his head until his mouth found hers. ‘‘Just lately.’’

  ‘‘Good.’’ With a quiet laugh, she laid her head on his shoulder. ‘‘Because I like noticing you notice me.’’

  They weren’t alone on the Bay, but he stayed well clear of the zipping motorboats out for a summer-evening cruise. A flock of gulls frantically swooped and swirled around the stern of a skiff where a young girl tossed out bread. Her laugh carried, high and bright, to mix with the greedy calls of the birds.

  The breeze rose up, filling the sails and whisking away the wet heat of the day. The few clouds drifting in the west were going pink around the edges.

  Almost time.

  Odd, she realized, she wasn’t a bit nervous. A little giddy perhaps, because her head felt so light, her heart so free. Hope, so long buried, was golden bright once freed.

  She wondered if he would slip into one of the narrow channels where the shade would be thick and the water the color of tobacco. He could thread past the bobbing buoy markers to a quiet place, one without even the gulls for company.

  He was so content with her beside him, Ethan let the wind choose the course. He should make adjustments, he thought. The sails would reef before long if he didn’t. But he didn’t want to let her go—not quite yet.

  She smelled of her lemon soap, and her hair was soft against his cheek. This could be their lives, he thought. Quiet moments, evening sails. Standing together. Building little dreams into big ones.

  ‘‘She’s having the time of her life,’’ Grace murmured.

  ‘‘Hmmm?’’

  ‘‘The little girl there, feeding the gulls.’’ She nodded in the direction of the skiff, smiling as she imagined Aubrey, a few years from now, laughing and calling to the gulls from the stern of Ethan’s boat. ‘‘Uh-oh, here comes her little brother to demand his share.’’ She laughed, charmed by the children. ‘‘They’re nice together,’’ she murmured, watching as the two of them heaved bread high into the air for eager beaks to snatch. ‘‘Company for each other. There’re more lonely times for an only child.’’

  Ethan closed his eyes a moment as his own half-formed daydream shattered. She would want more children. Deserve them. Life wasn’t all pretty sails on the Bay.

  ‘‘I need to trim the sails,’’ he told her. ‘‘Do you want to take the wheel?’’

  ‘‘I’ll trim them.’’ She grinned at him as she ducked under his arm to move to port. ‘‘I haven’t forgotten how to handle lines, Cap’n.’’

  No, he thought, she hadn’t forgotten. She was a good sailor, as at home on deck as she was in her own kitchen. She ran the rigging with the same skill that she showed when she served drinks to a crowd at the pub.

  ‘‘There’s not much you can’t do, Grace.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ She glanced up, then laughed. ‘‘It’s not hard to know how to use the wind when you grow up with it.’’

  ‘‘You’re a natural sailor,’’ he corrected. ‘‘A wonderful mother, a fine cook. You know how to make people easy around you.’’

  Her pulse went from calm to frantic. Would he ask her now, after all, before she had the chance to ask him? ‘‘Those are all things I enjoy,’’ she said, watching him watch her. ‘‘Making a home here in St. Chris contents me. You do the same, Ethan, because it contents you.’’

  ‘‘I’ve got a need for this place,’’ he said softly. ‘‘It’s what saved me,’’ he added, but he’d turned away and she didn’t hear.

  Grace waited another moment, willing him to speak, to tell her, to ask her. Then with a shake of her head, she crossed the deck again.

  The sun was sinking, coming close, so close to that long nightly kiss of the shore. The water was calm, littlewavelets waltzing against the hull. The sails were full and white.

  The moment, she thought with a leap of heart, was now.

  ‘‘Ethan, I love you so much.’’

  He lifted an arm to bring her against his side. ‘‘I love you, Grace.’’

  ‘‘I’ve always loved you. I always will.’’

  He loo
ked down at her then, and she saw the emotion come into his eyes, deepening the blue. She lifted a hand to his cheek, held it there as she drew in the next breath.

  ‘‘Will you marry me?’’ She saw the surprise, as she’d expected, but she didn’t notice the way his body went stiff as she rushed on. ‘‘I want us to be a family. I want to live my life with you. To give you children. To make you happy. Haven’t we waited long enough?’’

  And she waited now, but she didn’t see the slow smile slip across his face, into his eyes. He only continued to stare at her, with something she thought might be horror. Bony wings of panic fluttered in her stomach.

  ‘‘I know you might have planned to do this differently, Ethan, and me asking you is a surprise. But I want us to be together, really together.’’

  Why didn’t he say something? her mind screamed. Anything. Why did he just stare at her as if she’d slapped him?

  ‘‘I don’t need courting.’’ Her voice hitched and she stopped to try to steady it. ‘‘Not that I don’t love things like flowers and candlelight dinners, but all I really need is for you to be there. I want to be your wife.’’

  Afraid he would shatter if he looked into those hurt and baffled eyes another instant, he turned away. His hands white-knuckled on the wheel. ‘‘We have to come about.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ She jerked back, staring at his set face, at the muscle that worked in his jaw. Her heart was stillpounding, but no longer in anticipation. Now it was with dread. ‘‘You have nothing to say to me except that we have to come about?’’

  ‘‘No, I’ve things to say to you, Grace.’’ His voice was as controlled as his heart was wild. ‘‘We have to go back so I can.’’

  She wanted to shout at him to say them now, right now. But she nodded. ‘‘All right, Ethan. Come about.’’

  THE SUN WAS GONE when they docked. Crickets and peepers sent up their nightly chorus, filling the air with shrill, too-bright music. Overhead a few stars blinked through the haze and a threequarter moon shimmered.

  The air had cooled quickly, but she knew that wasn’t the reason she was cold. So cold.