The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge

by Stewart, Mariah

  The last of the mist was still rising off the pavement, the sun still not quite high enough to clear the trees and announce the new day. Bright lights illuminated the municipal building parking lot, where the police cruisers were lined up in their numbered spaces. The big public lot across the road was empty now, but by noon it would be filled to capacity as the day-trippers arrived for end-of-the-season shopping. Summer was over, and in leaving, it took most of the summer folks. The few who remained were mostly retirees, empty nesters, childless couples, or young marrieds. Soon they, too, would go back to wherever they’d come from once the weather turned cool and damp and the town lost some of its charm—well, to all but the residents. Those who were from St. Dennis loved her in each of her seasons.

  Wade was partial to autumn. He loved the cool, crisp evenings and mornings that gave way to ample sunshine and warm afternoons. He especially liked mornings like this one, mornings with just a bit of snap to the air that hinted at the cool weather to come. The sky seemed bluer and the waves on the Bay—just a few hundred feet away—seemed to churn up whiter foam. At the end of Kelly’s Point Road he jogged onto the boardwalk that ran along the waterline as far as the marina, where many of the slips were empty, the fishing boats having already made their way out onto the Chesapeake, the crabbers long gone. Only the pleasure boats remained at dock, their owners having the luxury of sleeping late should they choose to do so. Those who made their living on the Bay had no choice but to rise before the sun.

  In his youth, Wade had sailed these waters in every season and in all kinds of weather. He’d been the youngest member of a team that had won more than their fair share of sailing awards. Ironic that one of his old teammates was now chief of police here in St. Dennis, and another was dating his sister. Their biggest threat every year had come from the team headed by Clay Madison, who was Wade’s age but who was by far the best sailor in the bunch. Wade figured he’d run into Clay one of these days. Dallas mentioned he was living just outside of town on the farm that had been in his family for generations.

  There was something comforting about being in a place where you could count on certain things staying the same, where the same families farmed the same fields or fished the same waters, where the names all had a familiar ring. Wade had liked Texas, enough to have stayed after grad school and build a business. He’d had some really good years there, but it was never home and he’d put down no roots. Sleeping beneath the roof of the old house his own family had called home for two hundred or so years had banished the restlessness that followed him since he left St. Dennis.

  Funny to see Cody asleep in his old bed, though. Funnier still for Wade to have opened his eyes to find himself sleeping in his own father’s room, with Austin’s crib set up along the back wall. All in all, being back in St. Dennis soothed his battered heart and his weary soul, and he regretted that he wouldn’t be staying longer. Being with his family filled those places inside him that had felt empty for months. He hoped that before he left town, he’d be able to soak up enough of that calm to last him through the coming year.

  At the end of the dock, he paused to catch his breath. Though he’d once been a runner who’d never missed a day, it had been several months since he’d been out for a morning jog, and he found himself out of shape. With no one to watch late-sleeping Austin in the early hours, Wade had had to make adjustments to his schedule. That many parents would give anything for a child who slept late was an irony that wasn’t lost on Wade. Only Dallas’s promise to listen for his son should he awaken made this morning’s run possible. Another early riser, Dallas had insisted that Wade tie on his running shoes and take off for a while.

  “Cody did survive his babyhood, you know,” she’d told him when at first he’d declined her offer. “Chances are I’ll know what to do if Austin wakes up before you get back.”

  “It isn’t that,” he’d protested. “I just hate feeling like I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “Take advantage while you can.” Dallas had unlocked the front door and opened it. “And take your time. I’ll be here.”

  Dallas was a peach, and that was a fact. The rest of the world might know her as a screen icon, an award-winning beauty with pale blond hair and lavender eyes, but to Wade, she was the best sister any guy could have. She was thoughtful and fun and more understanding than even he had given her credit for. Hadn’t she proved that last night?

  She and Berry had been uncommonly understanding and nonjudgmental, under the circumstances. There’d been no jumping to conclusions where Austin had been concerned.

  “As long as you’re sure this is what you what.” Dallas had reached across the table and taken his hand, and Berry had nodded her agreement.

  “It is what I want,” Wade had assured them. “It’s the way it has to be.”

  It was what he wanted. There’d been no question that he’d step up to the plate as soon as Robin had laid out the facts for him. It wasn’t how he’d imagined his life would play out, but there it was. Wade was okay with most of it—all of it, really, except for Robin dying.

  As always, thinking about Robin made his heart ache.

  It had been so strange last night, trying to explain everything to Berry and Dallas. So much was sheer emotion, so much was pain. Robin had been his best friend first, his business partner second. Hearing Dallas refer to Robin as his wife had given Wade a jolt. He’d never thought of her as his wife, didn’t think of himself as a widower, but technically, that was the story. He’d married Robin, which made her his wife. She died, making him a widower. The fact that he’d married her because she was dying didn’t change things.

  But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Austin was safe, he’d always be safe now. He was Austin MacGregor, and so his mother could go to her rest without the torment of not knowing what was going to happen to her son.

  Wade started back toward Kelly’s Point Road, running alongside the water on the boardwalk. Up ahead he could see lights through the last remnants of mist, then realized he was looking at the interior lights of One Scoop or Two. As he drew closer, he saw movement inside, and he knew who was bustling about, preparing for the day. With the temperature projected to edge into the mideighties later, Steffie would be busy from the minute she opened her doors until closing that night.

  He wanted to knock on her door and explain things to her. Not that he owed her an explanation—it wasn’t like they were an item. They weren’t even dating. Frankly, he didn’t know what they were, so why, he asked himself, did he think he needed to explain anything to her? That he couldn’t define the source of his conflict annoyed the hell out of him. All he did know was that he’d seen the look on her face, the confusion in her eyes, when she realized that he was the daddy Austin had been calling for.

  Because of Beck’s wedding, Wade admitted. That for a few hours that night, he’d allowed himself to put aside the drama that had been unfolding back in Texas and had responded to his attraction to Steffie without bothering to snap on the appropriate restraints. He’d left her standing confused and angry and hurt in the inn’s parking lot while he raced to the airport to make his flight. There’d been no question that he’d be leaving that night—not after he’d received that phone call—as much as he’d wanted to stay with Stef in St. Dennis and try to figure out what it was that they had between them since she was seventeen and had asked him to her senior prom. He’d taken her, but had kept his distance. Even then, he knew he was attracted to her, but she was just too young.

  And then the night of the wedding he’d left St. Dennis—and Steffie—because Robin had needed him. Wade would have walked through fire to get back to Texas that night, even though he knew the price he’d pay for going: He’d probably be ruining any chance he’d ever have with Stef, but he’d had to go.

  In the dark, Wade hesitated near the side of the building and watched Steffie as she hustled around inside. He wondered if he should stop in for a moment, just to say hello. He could tap on the window and as
k her to unlock the door.

  She did keep the door locked when she was there alone, didn’t she? Anyone could be prowling around at this early hour.

  When he put his hand on the knob and turned it, he’d only thought to test it. To his surprise, it opened, the bell overhead ringing loudly and breaking the silence.

  Behind the counter, Steffie jumped a mile.

  “Wade?”

  “Why is this door unlocked? Don’t you know that anyone could just walk in here?”

  “Obviously. Anyone just did.” She stood with her hands on her hips, her honey-blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, a blue-and-white-checked apron covering her T-shirt and shorts. Her feet were bare, the toe-nails painted dark purple to match her fingernails. Across one cheek, there was a streak of something cream-colored that reached almost to her ear.

  “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to test the door. To see if it was unlocked.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it isn’t safe to leave the door open. The door should be locked when you’re here alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” She pointed behind him. “Tina is on her way in.”

  He turned as one of the women he’d seen in the shop the previous night came up the walk.

  “So, while I do appreciate this sudden concern of yours—and if I weren’t so busy, I’d ask what’s up with that—but unless you’re here for ice cream … and really, I’m not open, as you can see, but if you’re having a sudden uncontrollable craving for some chocolate monster mash, maybe I could scrape something together. But if not—if you’re just stopping by to say ‘hey’—you said that last night. And besides, I’m really, really busy.” Her hands still on her hips, Steffie met his gaze dead-on and raised one eyebrow. “Was there something you wanted, Wade?”

  Before he could open his mouth, the bell over the door rang again and Tina came into the shop. She smiled at Wade and went past him.

  “Morning, T.” Stef still continued to stare him down, her expression unchanged.

  “Morning, Stef,” Tina replied as she headed toward the back room.

  “Sorry,” Wade mumbled. “I just thought that maybe … Sorry.”

  He watched her watch him as he backed out the door and into the snip of sunlight that spilled through the lifting clouds. He closed the door behind him sheepishly and headed up Kelly’s Point, feeling like a complete ass all the way back to River Road.

  By eight a.m., Steffie had made her day’s worth of ice cream and the handmade cones she was becoming known for. She could make the generic flavors—chocolate, vanilla, strawberry—in her sleep. The specialties of the day, her own concoctions—lemon meringue, peach divinity, pecan fudge ripple, and in honor of Halloween coming up, chocolate monster mash—took a little more time. But she’d gotten her recipes worked out over the weekend, and all told, it took her only three hours to make all she planned to sell that day. When it was gone, it was gone, and that little bit of exclusivity had made Scoop a must-stop on many a tourist’s agenda.

  “Wow, I’m beat and the day has barely begun.” She stretched both arms over her head.

  “Want me to run up to Cuppachino and get you some coffee?” Tina asked.

  “Thanks, sweetie, but I think I’ll run up to Cuppachino and get my own. I need to stretch my legs.” Stef untied her apron and hung it on a hook near the back door. “Can I bring something for you?”

  Tina held up the travel cup she’d brought from home. “I’m still good.”

  “I won’t be long.” Stef grabbed her bag from under her desk, where she’d dropped it when she arrived a few hours earlier.

  “Take your time,” Tina told her. “Everything’s under control here.”

  Stef went out the back door and crossed the sandy strip between the rear of her shop and the public parking lot. She was dying for a good cup of coffee almost as much as she was dying to hear some gossip about Wade. The same group met at Cuppachino every morning, and while Stef didn’t join them every day, she made it there often enough to be considered a regular. Today, wild horses couldn’t keep her away.

  She walked briskly up Kelly’s Point and rounded the corner at Petals and Posies onto Charles, calling a greeting to Olivia, the florist, who was setting pots of purple asters and orange mums on her steps. She went straight to Cuppachino, where the usual group was at their usual post—the big table close to the front window—and she waved to them through the glass before she went inside. Stepping directly to the counter, she gave her order to Carlo, the owner, who poured her coffee—light, one sugar—into the mug that bore the name of her shop. Carlo’s wife, a potter, made mugs for each of the merchants who frequented the coffee shop on a regular basis. The chocolate-brown mug Carlo handed to Stef had SCOOP printed across the bowl in fat white letters, a pink ice-cream cone forming the P.

  She paid for her coffee and turned toward the table, trying to decide where to sit, who was most likely to have the best gossip to share that morning. She hoped she hadn’t missed the best of it. Then again, Vanessa was there, and of course, she’d share anything she’d heard in Steffie’s absence.

  Stef walked to the table, and pulled out the chair on the end, next to Grace Sinclair. If anyone knew anything, Stef was betting it would be Grace, who owned the town’s only newspaper, and who, at seventysomething, knew everyone in St. Dennis.

  “… and I said to myself, that is one fine-looking young man.” Barbara Noonan, who owned Book ’Em, the bookstore across the street, grinned before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “For God’s sake, Barbara, you’re old enough to be that boy’s mother,” Grace admonished.

  “Maybe so.” Barbara nodded. “Doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

  “Any idea who the mother is?” Nita Perry, owner of the antiques shop, looked around the table.

  Steffie figured that someone—most likely Vanessa—had given Nita a swift kick to the shin under the table to shut her up, because Nita jumped slightly, then frowned.

  “What? Everyone in town knows by now that Wade brought a little boy home with him. He certainly isn’t hiding him. I figured maybe Stef has the inside scoop—pun intended—because of Grant and Dallas. What’s wrong with asking?”

  Barbara—who, like everyone else at the table, had witnessed Wade and Steffie’s dance-floor romance unfold at Vanessa’s brother’s wedding—rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know any more than any of you do.” Stef wore her best barely interested expression. “Grant’s out of town, and as of last night, he had no idea.”

  “Dallas never said anything about it? Not ever?” Nita stared in disbelief.

  “Apparently not.” Stef shrugged it off as being unimportant.

  “Doesn’t that beat all?” Barbara shook her head and turned to Grace. “You’re the investigative reporter here. I would think you’d have figured out a way to get the facts by now.”

  “From what I understand,” Grace replied, “Wade only arrived in St. Dennis yesterday. But it’s my guess that he’s planning on staying for at least a little while.”

  “What makes you say that?” Steffie asked.

  “I just happened to drive past Berry’s house yesterday afternoon and I saw a car with Texas plates that had one of those trailer things hooked on the back. You know, the kind of trailer you rent when you’ve got more than a few suitcases to bring to wherever it is you’re going.”

  The table fell silent for a moment.

  “Of course,” Grace added, “that could also mean he’s on his way to someplace else.”

  “Maybe I should ask Daz,” Vanessa mused.

  “Who’s Daz?” asked Barbara.

  “My spirit guide on the Ouija board,” Vanessa whispered as if sharing a mysterious secret.

  Grace Sinclair choked on her tea.

  “Sorry, dears.” She waved a napkin in front of her face. “Went down the wrong way.” Turning back to Vanessa, Grace asked, “What was that you were saying? Something about a Ouija board?”


  “It’s a joke, Miss Grace. I found one in the attic and brought it down to play with Grady. I was planning on asking it loaded questions and then spell out the answers, so I could drop little hints without looking like I was dropping hints.” Vanessa smiled. “You know, things like, ‘What size ring does Vanessa wear on her ring finger?’ and then I’d have the board answer, ‘Size five.’ Just silly stuff like that.”

  “So what happened?” Nita prodded. “Did Grady fall for it?”

  “We didn’t get to play,” Vanessa told them. “See, I’d read somewhere that before you ask it a question, you have to introduce yourself to your spirit guide. So I did that. ‘Hi, I’m Vanessa, nice to meet you. What’s your name?’ But no matter what I asked it, it just kept spelling out ‘D-A-Z.’ Like it had been programmed or something.”

  “Maybe Grady was doing it on purpose,” Barbara suggested. “Maybe he knew what you were up to.”

  “Grady wasn’t even in the room. I was doing it by myself.”

  Grace cleared her throat, then took a long slow sip of tea before asking, “Found it in your attic, you say? I suppose it had belonged to Alice Ridgeway?”

  Vanessa nodded. “It was there when I moved in, so I have to think it had been hers, since the contents came along with the house.”

  “Okay, you can admit now that you’re doing it on purpose because you think it’s amusing to say that you have a spirit guide named Daz.” Nita laughed. “Whoever heard of a spirit named Daz, anyway?”

  “But I’m not doing it, and I didn’t make up Daz.” Vanessa was beginning to sound slightly defensive.

  “Maybe unconsciously you’re moving the little triangle thing?”

  “Stef, I swear, it moves itself.”

  “Maybe you’re holding the board at a slant.” Stef tried to think of some explanation that would allow her friend to save face.