by Ruth Langan
Chapter 7
Sunday morning dawned misty and mild, without a trace of the rain that had been predicted.
As was her custom, Sidney took Picasso and Toulouse on a long hike through the woods, laughing at their antics as they scared up rabbits and squirrels, and even a fat groundhog that looked especially annoyed by the intrusion. By the time she returned to her cabin, the sun had broken through the curtain of mist, bathing everything in bright light.
Hearing the crunch of wheels along the trail, Sidney had the door open even before Adam’s Jeep came to a halt.
Picasso and Toulouse raced outside to dance excitedly around his ankles, before accompanying him to the cabin.
Though Sidney resented the tingle of anticipation that flowed through her at the mere sight of Adam, she couldn’t deny it. She was as happy as her dog and cat, and just as starved for his attentions.
She stared in surprise at the sight of him in charcoal cords and sweater, topped by a lighter gray sport coat. “How handsome you look.” She touched a hand to his cheek. “You even shaved.”
“Every now and then I do that. But only for very special occasions.” He gave her a slow appraisal that had the heat rushing to her cheeks. “Now I’m glad I did. You look amazing.”
With an ankle-skimming skirt and matching sweater set in pale buttercup cashmere, and her red hair plaited into one fat braid that spilled over her shoulder, she was more colorful than the autumn foliage that shimmered around her.
“Ready to go?”
She paused. “In a minute.” She called Picasso and Toulouse inside before pulling the door shut.
As she followed Adam to his car she glanced toward the window, where the dog and cat stood watching with the most forlorn expressions.
Following the direction of her gaze Adam burst into laughter. “I’ve never known a pair of animals that could express so much emotion. Look at their sad faces.”
She joined in the laughter. “They do this every time I leave them. Poppie calls it playing on my sympathy. They really know how to get to me.”
“That’s because they have you pegged as a softie.” He helped her inside before settling himself in the driver’s seat. He turned the key in the ignition, but instead of putting the vehicle in gear, he lifted her hand to his lips. “And they’re not the only ones. You’ve got a tender heart, Sidney. I find that very endearing.”
When he released her hand and turned his attention to maneuvering the Jeep along the rutted path, Sidney sat back and wondered at the feelings assaulting her. How was it that his mere touch could turn her knees to jelly?
He kept his eyes on the path. “Tell me about this brunch.”
Sidney smiled. “I’m not sure it’s something I can describe. I guess it’s just something you have to experience to believe
“Who will be there?”
“My family.”
“All of them?”
She nodded. “They wouldn’t miss it. Unless there’s a dire emergency, everyone will be there. My sisters and their husbands. My mother, of course, and my grandparents. You’ll get to witness the ongoing battle of wills between Poppie and the housekeeper, Trudy, who claims to detest every one of his inventions.”
“He’s an inventor? I thought he was a retired judge.”
“He’s both. But he’s very proud of his inventions, which he insists will, if not revolutionize the world, at least make Trudy’s job easier. The only problem with that is Trudy intentionally misplaces them as quickly as possible so she won’t have to put up with them.”
“I think I’m going to enjoy watching the show.”
“Oh, I guarantee it.”
She looked up in surprise when the lighthouse loomed ahead of them. “This isn’t the way to the highway.”
“I know. I’ve decided to pick up my gear. I think I’d like some shots of you in that outfit. Who knows? You may find yourself in the historical society’s annual almanac.”
He was out of the Jeep in seconds, leaving the engine running. Minutes later he bounded from the lighthouse with a bulging duffel slung over his shoulder.
“What could you possibly need with all that?” She watched him stow it in the back of the vehicle.
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been ready to shoot a scene and discovered that the particular lens I wanted has been left behind.” He climbed in and put the Jeep in reverse. “So over the years I’ve learned that it’s just easier to bring everything in one big bag than do without the one thing I need.”
She was shaking her head. “All that equipment for a few simple pictures.”
“Maybe they won’t be simple. Maybe I’ll decide to ask you to pose for hours until I get the perfect shot.”
She laughed. “And maybe I’ll just refuse, and you’ll have gone to all this trouble for nothing.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “I’d love to have you pose nude for me in the light tower.”
“In your dreams.”
He was smiling, but there was a subtle change in his tone. “You’d blush if you could see inside my dreams, Sidney.”
“I’m not sure I’d want to.” Though she kept her voice light, she couldn’t help shivering.
“I already have some pictures of you, of course. I had them developed in town, and I’m thinking of framing them.”
“When did you take them?”
“When you were painting by the shore.”
She wonderelings that rippled through her. There was something intriguing about the thought of Adam snapping shots of her while she was completely unaware.
“How did I look?”
He chuckled. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Was I cold? Windblown?”
“You were absolutely gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. The camera loves you, by the way. There isn’t a bad shot in the entire roll. I’ll show them to you one day.”
As they turned off the dirt road onto the highway that led to town, Sidney drew in a long, satisfied breath. “I never tire of seeing Devil’s Cove.”
“It’s a pretty town.”
“Yes, it is. But it’s more than just a pretty town. It’s filled with good people. Most of whom, by the way, I’ve known all my life.”
He gave a shake of his head. “I know you can’t understand, but I find myself constantly amazed at the fact that you live in a town where you grew up, knowing all the people your whole life.”
“No more amazing than the fact that you call everywhere home, and can be perfectly comfortable among strangers.”
They fell silent as they drove along the main street, past the shops and restaurants which in summer teemed with tourists. Now there was no more than a trickle of visitors, who came to enjoy the autumn scenery.
Sidney pointed up ahead to the row of lovely old houses that stood along the shore. “We’ll follow this street to the Willows.” Moments later she pointed again. “Here’s our place.”
Adam turned the car up a long curving driveway and came to a halt behind several other cars.
“It looks like everyone is here ahead of us.” Sidney accepted Adam’s hand as she stepped from the car.
Together they followed the sound of voices to the other side of the house.
“Does this mean we’re eating outside?”
Sidney nodded. “The patio. It’s Poppie’s favorite spot. And since there are so few days like this left, I’m sure he’s eager to take advantage of it.”
“What does he do in winter?”
“He rules like an emperor in the formal dining room,” she said in a whisper. “And drives Trudy crazy.”
As they walked, Adam studied the ivy-covered brick-and-stone facade, the slate-tiled roof that rose above three stories and the graceful curve of walk-ways still lush with hardy autumn flowers and colorful shrubs.
When they came around the side of the house, he could see the sweep of lawn that ran all the way to the water’s edge and the lovely brick-paved patio.
The furniture was a mix of wicker and glass, with brightly colored cushions on the chairs and gliders. Adding even more color were urns filled with waving grasses and pots of mums.
Adam leaned close to whisper, “You forgot to tell me you grew up in a mansion
“Did I?” She merely smiled as she drew him forward.
“About time.” The voice was as scratchy as a rusty gate.
Adam paused to study the woman speaking. She was as wide as she was tall, with tufts of white-cotton curls around a face with eyes like a blackbird.
She caught Sidney’s arm and leaned close. “The Judge is trying out his newest contraption. If you ask me, it’s just like all the others. A silly waste of his time and mine.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a use for it. Trudy, I’d like you to meet our guest, Adam Morgan.”
Those dark eyes shifted to the man beside Sidney, looking him over as carefully as she might examine a tray of prime ribs to be served to royalty.
Suddenly her eyes crinkled and her lips curved into an almost wicked grin. “Well, this day has certainly started to improve. You the photographer living in the lighthouse?”
“That’s me.” Adam offered his hand and she wiped hers on her apron before accepting.
“And you’re here with our Sidney.” She stared into his eyes, her smile growing. “Nice to meet you, Adam. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around.”
She turned away and walked back to the house.
Adam leaned close to mutter, “No shrinking violet there. For a minute I had the feeling she saw me as brunch and was wondering just how to cook me.”
“Goose, no doubt,” Sidney said with a laugh. “Trudy is very good at cooking everyone’s goose.”
They were still chuckling when Frank Brennan looked up from the grill and spotted them.
“Here you are.” He set aside giant tongs and hurried over to take Sidney’s hands in his. “Now we’re all together.”
“Poppie.” Sidney wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely before turning to include Adam. “I’d like you to meet Adam Morgan.”
“A pleasure, Adam. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, sir. From what I’ve seen of it, it’s beautiful.”
“I’ll see that Sidney gives you a tour before you leave. I understand you’ve already met Bert and Charley.” The old man drew his wife close and kept one arm around her shoulders. “Now I’d like you to meet the rest of our family.” He turned to include the others who had gathered close. “This is my granddaughter Emily, who has now taken our son Christopher’s position as town doctor, and her husband, Jason Cooper.”
Adam returned their handshakes. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the town doctor, Emily. And nobody needs to tell me about Jason Cooper.” He turned to the man beside her. “I’ve read all your books. They kept me sane when the world around me went crazy.”
“That’s nice to know.” Jason smiled. “I happen to be a fan of yours, as well. I’ve long admired your photos. Especially that one of the Afghan children that won you the Pulitzer.”
Sidney watched Adam’s reaction to her brother-in-law’s words. He seemed actually embarrassed that someone had recognized him.
“Did you think no one here in Devil’s Cove would know your name?” she asked.
Adam gave a half-hearted shrug. “I guess I was hoping to be anonymous.”
“That would be hard to do with a reputation like yours. You had to assume that sooner or later someone would connect your name to that award.”
Adam merely grinned. “It rarely comes up in conversations. I’ve never learned how to say, ‘Hi, I’m Adam Morgan, Pulitzer prize-winning photographer.’”
That had everyone laughing.
The Judge continued his introductions. “Adam, this is our granddaughter Hannah and her husband Ethan, and those two little imps running through the piles of leaves are their two sons, Danny and T.J.”
“I’ve seen your landscaping signs all over town, Hannah.” Adam exchanged handshakes with the adults and winked at the two boys who waved their chubby hands as they ran past, chasing falling leaves.
Frank Brennan turned. “And yet another granddaughter, Courtney and her husband Blair Colby.”
“That pretty little gift shop in town is yours, I believe?”
She dimpled. “And the lovely clubhouse being built at the country club is Blair’s design.”
“I’ve seen it. It’s impressive.” After more handshakes Adam shook his head. “This is quite an array of talent. Do all of you live here in town?”
“Most of the time.” Jason brushed a kiss on Emily’s cheek. “If I can get my wife to find another doctor to cover her practice for a while, I’d like to take her to Malibu to see if there’s anything she’d like to bring back here before I put my house on the market.” He glanced at Adam. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in buying a house in California, would you?”
“Sorry.” Adam shook his head. “I have no desire to sink roots. But if I did, Malibu is the last place I’d choose to do it.”
“I would have thought—” Frank glanced at his granddaughter Sidney, standing quietly beside Adam “—that after a life spent chronicling war all over the globe, you’d be eager to settle down someplace serene.”
Adam arched an eyebrow. “I think about it from time to time, and then find myself going off on another assignment that leaves me little time to think about anything except staying out of harm’s way. I guess serene just isn’t part of my vocabulary.”
Trudy wheeled a serving cart across the patio and they gathered around, helping themselves to drinks. While the men gathered around the Judge, who was cooking on the grill, the women fell into the routine of helping Trudy set the table and carry various covered dishes from the kitchen to the patio.
As she worked beside the others Sidney glanced over to watch Adam laughing easily with he grandfather and brothers-in-law.
She felt an arm around her shoulders and glanced up to find her grandmother standing beside her.
“He’s a fascinating man, isn’t he?”
Sidney nodded.
“And secretive, it seems. Are you angry that he didn’t tell you more about himself?”
“Not angry, Bert. But…embarrassed to find out so many things about him from what he told the others.”
The older woman merely smiled. “Frankly, I find that sort of humility refreshing. There aren’t many men who wouldn’t find an opportunity to bring up their successes into every conversation.”
“I suppose.” Sidney sighed. “Still, I would have liked to know a little more about him. There seems to be so much he keeps to himself.”
Bert brushed a strand of fiery hair from her granddaughter’s cheek. “Would it have made any difference in the way you’d have treated him, my darling?”
Sidney shrugged. “I suppose not.”
The old woman’s voice lowered. Softened. “Would it have made a difference in the way you feel about him?”
Sidney turned to study her grandmother with a look of mild disapproval. “Why, Bert, I believe you’re fishing.”
“And why not? I have every right to worry about you, Sidney.” Bert cupped the young woman’s face between her hands. “How do you feel about Adam, darling?”
The sigh came from deep inside. “I wish I knew. He’s fascinating, daring, funny and charming, but he’s also aloof and distant and keeps way too many secrets. Just when I think I’m starting to know him, I see another side to him that I don’t even recognize.”
Hearing the depth of her distress, Bert leaned close to brush a kiss over Sidney’s cheek. “Time, darling. Give it time. We women aren’t the only ones allowed to have our moods.”
Linking her arm through her granddaughter’s, she drew her toward the table. “Now if you don’t mind, would you please arrange the flowers, Sidney. You know that none of us can do them as well as you.”
Sidney picked up the bouquet of pink and purple mums and
began arranging them in an antique silver vase, using a few sprigs of vines and dried grasses for added texture and color. As she did, she continued to glance occasionally at Adam, trying to see him as her family did. But all she could see was that darkly handsome stranger who had stepped out of the woods and into her life, sipping a drink and exchanging pleasantries with her grandfather and the other men, listening, laughing and occasionally glancing her way. Whenever their gazes met, she felt a quick little thrill, as though, despite the distance between them, he’d actually touched her.
What did she know about Adam Morgan? No more than when she’d first met him. He was as secretive as ever, keeping his life and his accomplishments hidden from view.
Perhaps, she thought with a sigh, since he seemed so easy and natural with the others, she’d leave it to one of them to uncover a few of the secrets he seemed so determined to keep from her.
Men, she thought with a growing sense of frustration. One minute they made you the center of their universe. The next, you were not only out of sight, but out of mind, as well.
If only she could do the same with Adam. But even when he was out of sight, he seemed constantly on her mind.
Chapter 8
Sidney touched a napkin to her mouth. “I believe that may have been your best beef tenderloin ever, Poppie.”
Her grandfather, seated at the head of the table, beamed. “Thank you, my dear. You may pass that thought along to Trudy, who wanted me to cook salmon again.”
The housekeeper, busy circling the table to top off their cups of coffee, paused to give him a withering look. “Your own granddaughter is a respected doctor and she’s the one who told me you should be eating more fish and less red meat.”
“But not at my Sunday brunch, surely.”
“Especially at Sunday brunch. And don’t call me Shirley.”
That had everyone around the table groaning at the old joke. These two had been playing out the same scene for over forty years and never seemed to tire of the mock battle.
