A Soft Place to Fall (34 page)

It also occurred to him that they probably
knew he was living in Shelter Rock Cove. A photo in a small town
newspaper could have the half-life of uranium these days and cause
just as much damage. His contact had ripped him a new butt when he
found out. "What the hell are you trying to do, Butler, undermine
every goddamn thing we've been doing down here?" The point to his
exile in Shelter Rock Cove had been to fade into the scenery while
they set the machinery into motion that might bring down Mason,
Marx, and Daniel and, not incidentally, keep Sam out of prison.

His contact's wrath over the newspaper photo
would be nothing compared to the hell that would break loose when
they found out he had been in contact with Arnie Gillingham about
Claudia's contract with Adam Winters. He had left behind a paper
trail a blind man could follow.

But it was too late now. The machinery was in
motion and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

His nights in Annie's arms were numbered.

#

Warren showed up on Claudia's doorstep
precisely at eight o'clock on Saturday night, same as usual.

The greeting he received wasn't usual at
all.

"He told you, didn't he?"

Warren doffed his hat and flung it on the
hall table. "Who told me what?" He slipped out of his coat and hung
it from the coat tree near the door.

"That friend of yours from New York told you
what I did."

"Are you talking about Sam?"

"Yes, I'm talking about Sam. He told you what
happened and you made them give my money back."

"You been hitting the scotch?"

Her gaze was as fierce as it had been when
she was a beautiful young wife of nineteen. "No, I haven't been
hitting the scotch. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking
about, Warren Bancroft, because you do."

"I don't understand one word, old woman. Now
slow down and start over again."

She talked and he listened while he poured
himself a stiff shot of single malt he kept in her kitchen
cupboard.

"Nope," he said. "I had nothing to do with
it."

She dished up some spaghetti and meatballs
and set it down in front of him. "Don't lie to me, you old coot.
Who else could have made it happen?"

"Sam," he said as he reached for the green
container of shaking cheese. "That's who you should be
thanking."

#

Claudia had been afraid of that. When the
courier showed up at her house three mornings after Annie's
whatever-he-was had found her sniveling on Warren's doorstep she
had suspected Sam Butler was at the bottom of it. God knew, it was
the last thing she had wanted, to be in that man's debt. Bad enough
that he knew her for the weak-willed, lonely woman she was. Now she
would have to thank him for cleaning up the mess she had made.

She waited until Monday morning when she was
sure Warren was on his way to Portland on business and Annie was at
the shop. She knew that Sam spent his days in the workshop behind
Warren's house, working on some project for the museum.

The lawn sparkled with early morning frost as
she pulled into the driveway behind the house. Autumn was
invariably kind to their part of Maine and this autumn was no
exception. Beauty and commerce met and married in September and
October and the honeymoon, if they were lucky, might extend until
Christmas. The last two weeks had brought a flood of leaf-peepers
to Shelter Rock Cove and Annie's Flowers had done land office
business. Sweeney, too, had been crowing about the record sales
enjoyed by the artistans' co-op. Everyone, it seemed, was pleased
with her lot in life but Claudia.

Sam Butler's disreputable truck was parked a
few yards ahead of her sedan. He still had his New York license
plates and she wondered if that meant he planned to go home one
day. Annie never said a word about their plans. Surely they must
have talked about the future. The only thing lovers enjoyed more
than recounting their own intimate history was making plans for the
future, but if Annie and Sam had such plans, they weren't
talking.

Are you going to sit out here all day,
Claudia, or are you going to get it over with?

She checked her lipstick in the rear view
mirror, patted her hair, then stepped out of the car. What was the
name of that movie with that nice Tom Hanks, the one about death
row?
The Green Mile
, that was it, with the long walk the
convicted man took to the electric chair. That was how she felt as
she approached the huge garage, like she was walking her last mile
and Sam Butler had his hand on the switch.

His noisy dog announced her arrival which,
she supposed, was a good thing. If the yellow Lab hadn't started
barking, she might have been tempted to sneak back to her car and
zip away.

"Knock it off, Max." Sam Butler's voice
rumbled from somewhere in the barn. "I hear you."

She approached the door, trying to pretend
that huge animal wasn't dancing around her knees. Maybe she could
write him a note or, better yet, send him a bouquet of something
fresh-smelling and masculine as a thank you.

Coward.

She lifted her hand and knocked twice. The
door opened a crack and a surprised Sam Butler looked down at
her.

"Warren's down in Boston," he said. "He'll be
back later this afternoon."

"I'm not here to see Warren." She willed
herself to not look away from him even though she found his gaze
unnervingly intense. "I'm here to thank you for what you did."

The door swung open wide. The guarded
expression in his melted-chocolate eyes was replaced by what
Claudia could only describe as flat-out joy. "Arnie came
through!"

"Last night," she said stiffly. "A courier
showed up at my house with a cashier's check."

He motioned her into the barn and the dog
followed right behind her. "They should have provided you with a
notarized document stating that your agreement with Adam Winters
Inc. was null and void."

"They did," she said. "It's in my safety
deposit box at the bank."

How handsome he was when he smiled. It wasn't
something Claudia wanted to notice but his happiness was impossible
to ignore. You would think there was something in this for him.

What a fool she was. Of course there was
something in it for him. What did he care about the future of an
aging widow from Shelter Rock Cove, Maine? Claudia was just another
old lady to him. Her future was of no consequence. He was looking
to charm Annie and how better than to bail her foolish
mother-in-law out of trouble. He would probably make sure this
sorry story hit the front page of the weekly paper, same as that
picture of him kissing Annie had last month.

"I suppose you've told Anne." She phrased it
as a statement of fact, not a question.

"No," he said. "I didn't. Who you tell or
don't tell is your business."

Another surge of gratitude washed over her.
What nerve he had being understanding and thoughtful. How could she
hate him when he was going out of his way to treat her with
kindness and respect?

"I don't believe in sharing my financial
information with family."

"I understand," he said and his tone made her
believe he really did. "Most people will show you their diaries
before they'll show you their bank statements. Money is the last
taboo in this country."

She laughed and he looked almost as surprised
as she was by the sound. There was something very appealing about
him when he let down his guard, a bracing kind of sharp-edged charm
she found most agreeable. The fact that there was an equally
sharp-edged intellect beneath the work shirt wasn't lost on her
either.

"I would like to repay you somehow for what
you've done for me," she said. "Maybe you would like to take Anne
out to Bar Harbor for a weekend. I would be glad to –"

"No." His smile softened the word. "But
thanks. Just think twice next time before you sign on the dotted
line."

He wouldn't take anything from her. Even her
thanks seemed to make him uncomfortable. No preening, no angling
for an imaginary spotlight. He was straightforward, direct, and
kind. He hadn't helped her so that he could shine more brightly in
Annie's eyes. He hadn't helped her to score points with Warren. He
had helped her because she needed help and because he had help to
give.

There was so little kindness in the world
that its absence was taken for granted. Nobody noticed the daily
slights, the snubs, the raised voices and harsh words. They were
all part of the landscape, as invisible as hello and goodbye. But
when kindness suddenly appeared in the guise of a man like Sam
Butler, a woman couldn't help but sit up and take notice.

Chapter Eighteen

Annie
had developed the habit of lingering in bed until Sam headed out
for his morning run with Max. She waited until she heard the sound
of the front door swinging shut behind them then leaped from bed
and made a mad dash for the bathroom.

It was hard to believe an empty stomach could
cause so much trouble but for the last fourteen mornings, Annie had
embraced the john and prayed for a bolt of lightning to put her out
of her misery. Twenty minutes of utter misery were followed by ten
minutes of queasy discomfort that were finally eased into
submission by a cup of spearmint tea with sugar and a handful of
oyster crackers. By the time Sam and Max came back, sweaty and
exhilarated from running along the beach, she looked as if she had
done nothing more exciting than brush her teeth and drink some
orange juice.

She had been fine this morning when she left
for work but something shifted inside her stomach when she rounded
the curve on Shore Drive and she had to pull off to the side of the
road and humiliate herself. Thank God nobody was around because the
news that Annie Galloway was upchucking her breakfast on a public
street would go from one end of town to the other before
lunchtime.

"You look terrible," Sweeney said when Annie
finally got to work.

"I feel—" She bolted for the small bathroom
behind the giant refrigerator.

"Here," said Sweeney, handing her a cup of
hot tea. "Peppermint, for your stomach."

"I've been drinking spearmint," she said,
wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

"Peppermint," said Sweeney wisely. "The first
trimester's a bitch. You need the heavy artillery."

Sweeney's words sent a shudder of shock
through Annie's body. Hot tea sloshed over the side of the cup and
dotted her forest green sweater. "First trimester!" She dabbed at
the droplets with a square of paper towel. "I think you're jumping
the gun."

"I've been through it three times, honey.
Believe me, I know the signs."

"I know what it looks like," Annie said, "but
it's impossible."

Sweeney arched a brow. "Impossible?"

"Okay, okay. Theoretically possible, but not
very likely." She took a sip of the sweet mint tea. It tasted like
melted candy canes. "I'm thirty-eight. It's probably early
menopause."

"Menopause doesn't give you morning
sickness."

"Shh!" Annie glanced quickly around the
store. "I'm not looking to make a public announcement,
Sweeney."

"Claudia's not here yet. She called to say
she'd be a little late."

"Well, she picked the right day for it,"
Annie said as she ran for the bathroom again.

Afterward, she washed her face and was drying
it carefully when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She
looked every single one of her thirty-eight years and maybe a few
more for good measure. She also looked terrified. Of course she'd
wondered if maybe, just maybe, she might be pregnant but each time
she considered the possibility it seemed downright laughable. She
had been married for almost twenty years to a man with a healthy
sperm count and not once in those twenty years had she ever become
pregnant. She had dreamed about it, prayed for it, until she
finally mourned the children she would never have. Ultimately she
had made her peace with her situation but the sense of loss was
never far from the surface.

Loving Sam was nothing short of a miracle.
Only a greedy woman would ask the gods for one more chance at
heaven.

"You should buy yourself one of those home
pregnancy tests," Sweeney suggested once Annie was back behind the
counter.

"Can you see me trying to slip one of those
things by Ceil at Yankee Shopper?" Annie had to laugh. "She would
know the results before I did."

"So would her next-door neighbor," Sweeney
admitted. "I'll buy one for you."

Annie shook her head. "You don't have to. I
have an appointment with Ellen this afternoon."

"Have you told Sam yet?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"There will be," said Sweeney. "Honey, this
time I think you've hit the jackpot."

#

Annie told Claudia she was going for her
annual pap smear and exam and Claudia feigned a ladylike
shudder.

"One day they'll learn how to warm up their
instruments," Claudia said, "although probably not in my
lifetime."

"Ellen's pretty good about that," Annie said
as she slipped on her jacket and grabbed her purse from the hook.
"I think she's been on the receiving end of cold metal a few times
herself."

"You take your time, dear," Claudia said.
"I'll watch the shop. In fact, it's been slow today. Why don't you
take the afternoon off? You must have a lot to do for your
seminar."

Annie looked almost embarrassingly relieved.
She kissed Claudia on the cheek, grabbed her jacket from the hook
behind the door, then flew from the store with wings on her
heels.

"Bless you, Annie," Claudia whispered as the
door swung shut behind her daughter-in-law. "Bless you and your
baby."