by Mona Ingram
“I’m not judging,” said Jackie. “You’re not expected to mourn for the rest of your life.”
Blaine’s relief was obvious. “Thank you for that. As to Ariana, there hasn’t been a day during the past month that I haven’t thought of her. I cut my trip short to get back here.”
“You’re not drinking your beer,” said Jackie with a wry smile.
“No,” said Blaine, lifting the bottle to his lips. “I’m nervous.”
“I have one question for you,” said Jackie. “No, two.”
Blaine spread his hands.
“Why did you have such a negative reaction? It sounds to me as though you’ve seen many women who’ve had mastectomies.”
He looked at her evenly. “That was something I wanted to tell Ariana first, but I guess I owe you an explanation.” He took a deep breath. “Two and a half years ago, my wife had a double mastectomy, but it was too late. She died a few months later.”
Jackie had been about to take a drink, but set her glass down. “You loved her very much.”
Blaine raised haunted eyes. “Yes, I did.”
Jackie nodded. “My second question is what do you want from me?”
“I was hoping if I told you how I feel, you’d tell me where I can find Ariana. I asked Jodi, but she’s a good friend and promised not to tell.” Watching the older woman carefully, he thought of a dozen more things he could say to try to sway her, but opted for silence.
Jackie studied him for several long minutes. When she finally spoke, he knew she’d decided in his favor.
“She’s still a married woman,” she said.
Blaine nodded. “But she’s not happy.”
“I have my own opinions about the state of her marriage, but that’s something you’ll need to discuss with her.”
Blaine grinned. “You can count on it.”
“She’s at Long Beach. Walking on the sand and getting her strength back.” She gave him the name of the resort. “She has a suite on the ground floor because she was concerned about climbing the stairs, but as I said, she’s getting stronger every day.” An affectionate smile softened her face. “I won’t tell you not to hurt her, because it’s obvious you’d never do that.” She leaned forward and laid a delicate hand on one of his. “Take care of her, my boy. She needs someone like you in her life.”
Chapter Nineteen
THE DRIVE TO LONG BEACH was more exhausting than Ariana had anticipated. She took a break in Port Alberni to load up on groceries and then continued on, arriving late in the afternoon, just as the sun was disappearing into the distant haze.
Leaving the unpacking until later, she walked outside, took a deep breath, and knew instantly that she’d made the right decision. At home in Victoria the physical healing had started, but this was where her spirit longed to be.
A low hedge of salal grew between the lawn and the beach beyond. Ariana made her way through one of several breaks in the vegetation and stepped onto the sand. The beach stretched in a gentle curve for several miles to the south. A rocky headland in the distance was partly shrouded in mist from the crashing waves. Perhaps by the time she was ready to leave, she’d be able to walk that far. For today, it was enough to know that it was there, a magnificent goal to be attained.
She sauntered slowly along the sand, picking up a shell here and there. Great long strands of seaweed littered the beach like otherworldly creatures. Childlike, she stepped on the air sacs in the leaves, delighting in the crisp ‘pop’.
Not willing to go back yet, she sat on a bleached log not far from the path leading to her suite. Couples of various ages strolled the sand and she watched them interact. It was easy to see which of them were happy. They didn’t need to be holding hands; there was closeness in the way they always knew where the other was, and in the way they came together once in a while to show what they’d discovered embedded in the sand. The newlyweds were easy to spot; their arms wrapped around each other. She smiled to herself and silently wished them well.
Oddly enough, she felt no bitterness at the sight of the happy couples. During her recovery, Jeremy had surprised her by respecting her request to be left alone. The break had given her time to consider their relationship and she reluctantly admitted that they never should have been married in the first place. No doubt her mother-in law would say that she should have done more to fight for the marriage, but she’d never be that person again. To her way of thinking, she shouldn’t have to fight for someone’s love. They either loved you or they didn’t, and her days of being needy were over.
She slipped down from the log and made her way slowly back to her accommodations. Tomorrow’s forecast was for a sunny day; she planned to read, walk on the beach, and sleep, not necessarily in that order. While she didn’t know how she would have managed without Carly’s help, not to mention Jodi and her grandmother, it was liberating to be on her own now. Of course the company of a certain green-eyed tattoo artist would not go amiss, but that scenario happened only in her dreams. This was reality, where dreams seldom come true.
“HELLO, HONEY!” THE Golden Retriever ran to Ariana, tail wagging. The dog had greeted her with the same enthusiasm every day; Ariana would miss her. “You’re leaving today?” she asked Barney and Shirley, the friendly older couple who owned the dog. They’d been considering extending their stay, but a family emergency had called them back home.
“Afraid so.” Barney watched as a surfer caught a wave, then turned back to his wife with a smile. “We hate to leave, but we’ve already planned to come back next year.”
“I know what you mean. Time goes by much too quickly here on the edge of the world.” A rare glass float had washed up on the beach a couple of days ago, causing a flurry of excitement. Floats from Japanese fishing nets had been commonplace along this coast of the Island at one time, but now were few and far between.
“Good luck to you, my dear.” Ariana had revealed only that she was recovering from an operation, and Shirley had managed to curtail her curiosity. “I hope we see you next year.”
Ariana laughed. “You never know.” She bent over to pat the dog, and then shook hands with both Barney and Shirley. “Drive carefully.”
They wandered up through the break in the salal, whistled to the dog and then disappeared from sight. For the past week they had been a constant in Ariana’s day, stopping for a few moments’ chat. She would miss them.
Maybe it’s time for me to consider leaving as well, she thought to herself, trudging through the sand until she came to her favourite log. Part of the jumble of logs along the high tide mark, it offered welcome shelter when the wind kicked up. The trunk was easily five feet in diameter, and there was evidence of children having built a fort at one time. Now all that remained were some loose planks and a perfect spot to sit and think.
With the fresh salt air clearing out the cobwebs of her mind, Ariana’s easiest decision had been to proceed with the divorce. It was a relief to know she’d already set the wheels in motion. As to the disposition of the business, she’d decided on that as well. She would sell her share and step away. Not difficult to do when she considered what she was about to undertake. It would be nice to have a partner for the new project, but she had no doubt that she would meet plenty of energetic women who would help her out. Only one question remained, and that was Blaine. Could she work with him without constantly being reminded of the look in his eyes when she told him of her mastectomy? Touched as she had been by his rose, she admitted that she might be reading more into the two-word message than was really there. ‘Forgive Me’ was hardly a declaration of love.
But even if she’d imagined the spark between them, Blaine Bennett figured prominently in her future plans. She needed his skills as a tattoo artist and if that meant fighting her attraction for him, she would do it, no matter how hard that proved to be.
Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the dark clouds. Heavy with rain, they hung ominously overhead. She rose and stretched her arms above her head, delighted to feel her flex
ibility returning. A gust of wind caught at her hair, swirling it about her head and she laughed at how she must look... a wild, carefree woman welcoming the oncoming deluge with upraised arms.
Chapter Twenty
BLAINE TURNED RIGHT on the Pacific Rim Highway. A magnificent corridor leading to Long Beach, it was flanked by tall firs and cedars on both sides of the road. “Should be somewhere along here,” he murmured, watching for the sign that announced the resort. He’d looked it up online last night, and his homework paid off as he turned into the driveway. Just in time; the dark clouds gathering overhead would soon make it difficult to see.
He sat for a moment outside the reception building and wondered what he’d do if she refused to talk to him. He’d envisioned this scenario many times, and not once had he allowed himself to consider rejection. There was only one way to find out, and that wouldn’t happen sitting here.
“Good afternoon. I’m visiting Mrs. Logan and I was wondering if you would call her room.”
The clerk nodded warily. “Certainly, Sir.” She held the phone to her ear for several moments, then turned back. “Sorry, she doesn’t seem to be answering. You might find her on the beach, however. She walks most afternoons at this time.”
“Thank you.” Blaine paused beside the basket of umbrellas beside the door. “May I take one of these? It looks like we’ll be having rain at any moment.”
“Of course. Those are for the guests.” She came around from behind the desk and peered outside. “I see what you mean. One of the joys of this area is the changeable weather.”
Blaine headed for the beach, admiring the layout of the resort as he passed. Tucked in amongst tall trees, the buildings were angled toward the ocean, affording each unit a view from a balcony; he could see why Ariana had chosen to stay here. His steps dragged, suddenly fearful of what he might find. He’d never been this unsure of himself in his life, and yet knowing that she was close, he was drawn inexorably to the beach, where fat drops of rain were just starting to fall.
As he stepped onto the sand, his apprehension faded away like the windswept sea spume. Oblivious to the rain, his gaze was drawn to the broad expanse of beach and he knew in that instant why friends had described this as the most beautiful place on earth. Clutching the rolled-up umbrella in one hand, he started to walk and with each step the tight knot of nerves at the base of his skull loosened.
A laughing couple passed him, the woman tugging at the man as they dashed across the sand to their suite. Smiling at their antics, he continued walking, but stopped when he saw a figure materialize out of the distant mist. Was he mistaken, or was she dancing? Arms held high, she raised her face to the drops of rain, and he thought she laughed, but the wind snatched away the sound.
Even with her hair plastered in wet strands against her skull, he would have recognized Ariana anywhere, and in that moment he knew that he would love her for the rest of their lives, no matter what happened today. His first instinct was to run and sweep her into his arms, but he wasn’t about to scare her off twice in a row. Besides, he was having too much fun watching her. Gone was the sad, hunched-over women from the park bench in Victoria. The Ariana he saw dancing on the sand appeared carefree, as though life had given her a do-over and she was determined to enjoy every second.
He forced his feet to keep walking at an even pace, closing the distance between them. As he watched, she ran down the tightly packed sand toward the water and stopped abruptly, waiting for the foam from the waves to come hissing up the beach and cover her feet. With a childlike squeal of delight she ran back up the beach and almost barreled into him.
Standing there panting, her eyes widened. “Blaine?” she said, looking all around as though she may have conjured him from her imagination. “What are you doing here?”
He wondered if she could see his heart thudding in his chest. “I came to see you,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I missed you.”
Rain pelted down but neither seemed to notice.
“I thought you were in Toronto.” She looked at him through eyelashes heavy with rain.
“I was, but I came back early.” He looked down at the umbrella in his hand and started to unfurl it. “I brought this along for you,” he said, feeling foolish. “Do you want it?”
“No,” she said, ignoring the umbrella and staring into his eyes. “Did you say you missed me?”
“Every day. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I came back, but you’d disappeared.” He tried to scowl at her. “You’re good at that.”
“But...” Rain was streaming down her face, but he was fairly sure he saw tears in there somewhere. “When I told you about the mastectomy, you were horrified.”
He closed the remaining distance between them and held out a hand. “How about you make me a cup of coffee, and I’ll explain.”
She looked at his hand for several long moments, then slipped hers into it. “I’d like that,” she said simply. “Follow me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“TURN ON THE FIREPLACE, would you? I’m going to get us a couple of towels so we can dry off.” Ariana grabbed the towels, then stopped to look in the bathroom mirror. She had taken very little care with her appearance since coming here, but the neglect seemed to bring out the sparkle in her eyes and a flush in her cheeks. Or was that due to the man in the other room? He’d missed her, he said, and she hugged the towels to her chest, wincing slightly at the contact.
“That’s my kind of fireplace,” she said, handing him a towel. “One flick of the switch and voila... fire.” She draped the other towel around her neck, walked into the kitchen and popped a pod into the coffee maker. As the cup started to fill, it occurred to her that she was in a hotel room with a man she scarcely knew. Yet it seemed as though she’d known him forever. Watching the coffee, she didn’t hear him come up behind her.
“May I do that?” he asked, lifting the towel from her shoulders and covering her head. His touch was sure and gentle as he dried her hair, and she clutched at the counter to keep her knees from turning to jelly.
“I can do it,” she said, hoping he’d never stop.
“Let me,” he said, turning her around and brushing a few wisps of dry hair away from her face with his fingertips. His gaze lingered on her lips, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. “I promised your grandmother I’d take care of you,” he said, handing the towel back to her. “And I always keep my promises.”
“You met Jackie? How?”
“Are you going to make another coffee?”
“Yes, of course, but I still want to hear how you met Jackie.” She handed him the finished coffee and popped in another pod. “You take yours black, right?”
“You remembered,” he said, with a soft, intimate smile.
“I remember everything we talked about that day,” she said. “And we’ll get back to that, but tell me how you met Jackie.”
He made himself comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked the fireplace. “I remembered everything we said as well,” he said, cocking his head as though listening to the conversation. “You told me your grandmother’s name was Jacqueline Beaumont. So I phoned her and said I wanted to talk about you.” He grinned at the memory. “She invited me over. I had beer and she had a martini.”
She studied him from the chair opposite as he took a drink of coffee. “She must have liked you.”
He lifted his shoulders. “We got along fairly well. She’s no pushover, but she trusted me enough to tell me where you’re staying, and here I am.” He set down his coffee mug, stood up and headed for the kitchen. “One sugar and a splash of cream, right?”
“Yes.”
He prepared her coffee and brought it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to meet his eyes. She was tempted to prompt him for his story, but knew he’d tell her when he was ready. He wandered to the French doors and stood there looking out. The rain had stopped and a pale sun was making an attempt to break throug
h. “I see what she meant,” he murmured, then reclaimed his chair. “The receptionist at the office said the weather was unpredictable.”
He stayed silent for several long minutes. Ariana watched as he gathered his thoughts, then began to speak.
“When I saw you out there on the beach today I knew I was right to come here.” He looked up. “Even if it turned out that you never wanted to see me again, I knew I had to apologize for the way I left things between us. First of all, Amber is no longer in my life. She and I had dated a few times, and although she’s a nice woman, it wasn’t going anywhere.” He looked her straight in the eye and she acknowledged his remark with a faint smile and a nod.
“I told you I was married.”
Ariana’s gaze flickered to the tattoo of lips on the side of his neck.
“Erin was a great girl. We had one of those relationships that everyone envies.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think I ever saw her stressed out. That made her easy to live with, but it was also her undoing.”
Ariana frowned.
“She avoided anything unpleasant, including going to the doctor when she didn’t feel well. She’d laugh off my concerns and call me an old fuddy-duddy.”
Ariana watched him fight the familiar demons.
“For a long time after she died, I blamed myself. Told myself that if I’d insisted, she might have gone, but in reality she’d probably have pretended to go, then reported that everything was fine.” He lifted his coffee mug then set it down again without drinking. “She had breast cancer. The doctors did a bilateral mastectomy, but it had spread to several places in her body. She died a few months later.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ariana whispered. What else was there to say?
He continued talking as though he hadn’t heard. “So when you mentioned the bilateral mastectomy, it all came back to me. I’d fallen in love with you, and now you were telling me I might lose you. It was...”
