Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 (14 page)

T
his time Troy wasn't taking any chances—he brought a change of clothes to the office on Friday morning, and he intended to leave
precisely
at five. Regardless of the Labor Day weekend traffic, he was visiting Faith.

At five o'clock, as planned, he donned his clean pressed shirt and slacks, putting his uniform inside the garment bag he had with him. The way people stared, he felt almost naked walking down the hallway outside his office. You'd think they'd never seen him in regular clothes before, he grumbled to himself.

Now that Megan was pregnant, she seemed to need her father more than ever. He realized that despite her happiness about the baby, she was feeling vulnerable and insecure. He'd had no chance to have an extended phone conversation with Faith since Megan had made her announcement. His daughter called him several times every evening, to talk about her mother, discuss baby names, ask his opinion on all kinds of pregnancy-related questions. He even wondered, almost guiltily, if she knew about him and Faith and was trying to thwart the relationship. But Megan couldn't possibly know about Faith.

When he left the office, Troy drove down to South-worth and discovered that the lineup for the ferry was hours long. Too impatient to wait, he drove around instead, which meant crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Traffic was bound to be heavy, but it didn't matter to Troy. He was going to see Faith. She talked more and more about moving to Cedar Cove, and he encouraged the idea.

For reasons he couldn't really explain, he was nervous. Earlier that week, when Faith had invited him to dinner, Troy had decided he'd kiss her. Okay, he'd kiss her
if
he got the signal that she wouldn't object.

He lost track of time as he drove through the steady but unobstructed traffic and was surprised to find himself at the freeway exit she'd instructed him to take.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the curb outside her house—a two-story colonial painted white with green shutters. The porch had two large columns, with a couple of wicker chairs and a glider. The lawn was well cared for and lined with flowering bushes. Sandy had liked flowers, too, and when she'd still been able to, had spent copious amounts of time maintaining their garden.

Troy stood there, staring at the house, when the door opened and she came outside.

“Troy! I'm so glad you're here.”

He felt the warmth of her welcome all the way from her porch, and yet he remained rooted to the spot. The night before they'd talked for a mere ten minutes, mostly plans for tonight, but now that he was here, he seemed to have nothing more to say.

“Hi.” He shoved one hand in his pocket and once again felt as awkward as a high-school kid. With his other hand he clutched the bottle of sauvignon blanc he'd bought on the advice of a friend.

“Come in, please.” Faith gestured toward the house.

He nodded. His mouth had gone dry and his tongue felt like it was glued to his teeth.

Looking around, he walked up the porch steps and into the entry, thrusting his wine into Faith's hand. The first thing that caught his eye was the carpeted staircase. Large framed photographs lined the wall going up the stairs—graduation photos of her two children, a couple of formal family shots and a portrait of her husband. He'd since learned that Carl had died of lung cancer. Troy's gaze didn't linger on the pictures. Instead, he glanced over at the living room, which was to his right. He could see that it was furnished with a sofa and a couple of matching chairs next to a brick fireplace. A few small tables. Lots of plants. That was where she led him.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I have coffee, tea and soda.” She smiled. “And wine, of course.”

“Not yet, thanks,” he mumbled as he sat on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.

“How was the traffic?”

“Fine.” He was suddenly hot and resisted the urge to unfasten the top button of his shirt.

“I was afraid it'd be bumper-to-bumper the entire way, but it looks like you made good time.”

Troy had no interest in this mundane conversation. “Listen, Faith,” he said abruptly. “I'd best get this over with now.” He stood and paced in front of the fireplace. “My wife was sick for many years.”

“Yes, Troy, I know that.”

“Right.” He was going over ground already covered. “There's never been anyone else.”

“I'd be shocked if there had been.”

Troy saw that he was making a mess of this. “I'm not eighteen anymore, Faith. I don't know about…these things.”

She looked at him with such sweet innocence, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. “Just tell me, would you?” he groaned.

“Tell you what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh.”

“I mean, if you'd rather I didn't, I understand. But I don't want to spend the whole evening wondering—worrying about it. So tell me now. Either way is fine.”

“Fine.” Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. “I think it would be perfectly nice if we kissed.”

“Really?” All at once he felt lighter than air.

“Would you like to do it now?” she asked with a faint smile.

“Now?”

“I don't want you to worry about it through dinner.”

He thought she might be teasing him but he didn't take offense. “If you don't mind, I'd prefer to wait.”

Faith grinned. “As a matter of fact, I'd like to wait, too.”

Then they had a glass of wine, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always seemed to, everything from high-school reminiscences to the books they happened to be reading.

Because the dinner she'd made when he had to cancel at the last minute had gone more or less to waste, Troy insisted on taking her out. With the help of an online recommendation, he'd made reservations at an upscale waterfront restaurant. The place was small and elegant, with intimate lighting and attentive waiters. Faith raved about the seafood she had, and he had to agree that his salmon, too, was exceptionally good. Afterward they went for a walk along the beach near Alki, removing their shoes and strolling hand-in-hand. He carried his shoes, with his socks stuffed inside, and felt conscious of every sensory detail—the cool, firm sand, the brilliant colors of the setting sun, her enticing floral scent.

“I didn't know what to think when you got to my house this evening,” Faith told him. “You looked so stern. I had this horrible feeling you'd gone through all that traffic just to come and tell me you didn't want to see me again.”

“Hardly,” Troy muttered, loving the feel of her so close. Asking permission to kiss her might not have been his smoothest move, but he was glad he'd done it. Now he could concentrate on
her
and on the anticipation of that kiss.

“Might I remind you that you've already broken my heart once,” she said lightly.

“You recovered.”

“So did you.” She paused. “Troy, we both loved our spouses, but they're gone. I'm so grateful that you and I have this second chance. Grateful and excited.”

“I feel the same way. Grateful, excited
and
nervous.” He shook his head. “The truth is I'm surprised I didn't throw up.”

“You? Oh, come on, Troy, you've always been so sure of yourself.”

“Yeah, right.”

The wind carried the sound of her laughter and just hearing it made him want to laugh, too.

“I'm knitting a baby blanket for your daughter,” Faith told him. “I hope that isn't too forward of me.”

“Of course not. I'm sure Megan will be very pleased.” Even as he spoke, Troy instinctively realized that the instant Megan learned the blanket had been knit by a woman he was dating, she'd be upset. Megan needed time before she'd be able to accept Faith, or anyone else for that matter, in his life. Maybe when the baby was born… He considered sharing his concern with Faith, but decided against it. He suddenly wondered how her kids felt about him.

He shook off his thoughts, and together they watched the final moments of sunset.
Now.
He'd kiss her now. He dropped his shoes on the sand, then gently turned her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers. Faith slid her arms around his neck.

This was the first time in more than thirty years that Troy had kissed a woman other than his wife. He found Faith's lips moist and warm and most wonderful of all, inviting.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, he saw that she was smiling up at him. “That wasn't so bad now, was it?” she murmured.

He frowned at her. “Not bad? That's
it?
”

“All right, lovely.”

“That's a little more like it.” Perhaps he should try again, he mused, and without hesitation touched his lips to hers. The same thrilling sensation stole over him. In his opinion, this was a thousand times better than
not bad
or
lovely.
It was…he searched for the right word.
Incredible
came to mind, but Faith had to feel it, too, before he'd risk saying that.

Her eyes were still closed when he raised his head.

“Pretty good,” he said in an offhand manner.

“Pretty good?” Faith echoed. “
Pretty
good?” Louder this time.

“All right, it was nice.”

“Nice?” She sounded outraged.

“How about incredible?” he suggested.

Her face softened. “That's what I was thinking.”

“Me, too.” They scooped up their shoes, then he reached for her hand and they headed back to the parking lot. The streetlights had come on, and the usual Friday-night revelers had begun to crowd the beach.

Troy drove Faith home. Just as he had when they were in high school, he walked her to the front door.

“I had a perfect evening,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I did, too,” Troy said. “How about a movie next?” he asked.

“When?”

“Monday?” He had the day off and wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

“Sure,” Faith answered. “Monday's good.”

“The way Sandy and I used to do it, she'd choose a movie, generally one I wouldn't have picked myself, and then the next time around, it'd be my turn.”

“That seems fair,” Faith agreed. “So who'll choose the movie this time, you or me?”

“You.”

“That's chivalrous of you, but since it was your idea, you should go first.”

“We can compromise. I'll check the paper and get back to you with some ideas.”

“Okay.”

They still hadn't decided whether to meet in Seattle or Cedar Cove, but that gave Troy a legitimate excuse to call her later. Not that he really
needed
an excuse…

They kissed good-night, a brief, comfortable kiss, and Troy left. As he made his way down side streets to the freeway on-ramp, he couldn't stop smiling.

The freeway traffic remained heavy, thanks no doubt to the holiday weekend. Driving back to Cedar Cove took nearly ninety minutes. As soon as he walked into the dark, silent house, he noticed the flashing red light on his phone. He checked the caller ID function; all four calls had come from his daughter. No surprise there.

It was close to eleven, too late to return Megan's call. He'd phone her in the morning, when his head would be clearer and he'd be better prepared to answer her questions. He'd tell her enough to satisfy her curiosity for the moment, but he wouldn't lie.

As he started toward his bedroom, the phone rang again. Apparently Megan wasn't going to let this rest.

“Yes, Megan,” he said, recognizing the number. Who else would be calling him this late at night? Well, except for work, of course.

“It's Craig,” his son-in-law said in a flat tone. “I just got back from the hospital.” He hesitated and Troy could hear him taking a deep breath. “Megan lost the baby.”

Troy felt as if he'd had a fist slammed into his belly. The first word out of his mouth was “No.”

“I'm sorry…. We tried to reach you. Apparently you had your cell turned off.”

Troy hadn't bothered to check. “I was…out.”

“Megan's taking the miscarriage pretty hard.”

Troy felt the sudden need to sit down. “What went wrong?” he asked, shocked by the news.

Sandy had lost two pregnancies after Megan, and both times the experience had been devastating. He couldn't stand that this had happened to his daughter, too.

“The doctor couldn't say for sure. Sometimes they can't tell.”

“Is she still at the hospital?” Troy asked.

“No, she's here.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Of course.”

Troy heard his daughter's tears even before she started to speak. “Daddy, where were you? We tried and tried to call, and we couldn't get hold of you.” Megan was sobbing in earnest now. “I needed you, Daddy, I really
needed
you and you weren't there.”

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I wanted this baby so much. This baby was Mom's gift to me and now…now there isn't a baby.”

Troy didn't know how to comfort her, any more than he'd known how to help Sandy when she'd miscarried. While he'd been out with Faith, sipping expensive wine in a fancy restaurant, walking on the beach, kissing her, his daughter had been at the hospital losing her baby. His grandchild.

“B
obby wants me to cut my hours,” Teri complained to Rachel as they walked along the Cedar Cove waterfront. They were on their lunch break and both felt the need to get out of the salon, into the crisp, fresh air and lovely September sunshine. Before long, the October rains would come and warm, bright days such as this would be rare.

“Is that what you want?” Rachel asked, tossing the leftover crust from her sandwich to the seagulls.

Teri didn't reply, and Rachel glanced up from feeding the gulls.

“Do you
want
to work part-time?” Rachel repeated.

“I don't know what I want anymore,” Teri confessed. “I love my job, but I love Bobby, too, and he needs me more than Mrs. Johnson needs a spiral perm or Janice Hutt a color job.”

“Then you have your answer,” Rachel said, as if the decision should be an easy one.

“I don't think it's quite that simple.” Feeling queasy, Teri sat on a bench that overlooked the cove. Baskets of blooming annuals in an array of pinks and reds hung from the lightposts along the walkway. “Bobby is so intense and, well…” She hated to say it, but she needed a break from her husband every now and then. A few hours apart from each other did them both good. Working at the salon was the perfect arrangement.

Rachel sat down beside her, and instantly a flock of seagulls gathered at their feet. She tossed the last of the bread onto the lawn, then shooed the birds away.

“This whole thing's giving me an upset stomach,” Teri murmured. In fact, she felt like throwing up.

“You're pale,” Rachel said, eyeing her closely.

“Darn him.” She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her. “Since the hair show, Bobby's been worse than ever.”

“Worse?”

“He hardly lets me out of his sight.” Teri knew without looking that James was somewhere in the vicinity. He'd been assigned to watch over her whenever she was away from home. To his credit, James tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. But Teri couldn't help knowing he was there, especially when he hung around the mall, peering into the salon every ten or fifteen minutes. The other girls were used to it now and tended to ignore him.

“Get Nailed is more than my job,” Teri continued. “It's a big part of my social life, too. You're there and I'd miss seeing you every day.”

“Yes, but…” Rachel paused. “I'm actually thinking maybe Nate and I…” She let the rest fade.

“You really think you might marry Nate?” Teri liked the other man well enough and she knew Rachel was completely enthralled with him. But as she'd told Bobby, she was unsure this was right for her friend. Apparently she wasn't the only one with doubts; Rachel seemed to have reservations herself, otherwise she would've moved to San Diego when Nate was transferred.

“I'm still trying to decide,” Rachel said miserably. “Nate and I talk about it every time we're on the phone. He's coming to see me and I know he'll want an answer.”

“So the pressure will
really
be on.”

“Exactly.”

“If you love him, why the doubt?”

Rachel sat back against the park bench and crossed her legs, one foot swinging. “You're going to think I'm being silly.”

“Rachel, you're my best friend! I'd never be that judgmental.”

“It has to do with Jolene,” she said with a deep sigh. “I know what it's like to lose a mother. That was hard enough on the kid, but then her grandmother died, too. Bruce's family lives somewhere out east and they don't seem to have much contact. I'm afraid Jolene will feel abandoned if I leave now.”

“How old is she again?” Teri asked.

“Twelve. She's almost ready for junior high. This is such a vulnerable age. Bruce is worried, too, and, well, I just don't feel I can do that to Jolene.”

Teri understood Rachel's quandary. “But you can't base your life on Jolene.”

Rachel leaned forward and uncrossed her legs. “Now you sound like Nate. Jolene's gotten to be a real sore point between us. I'm afraid to even mention her name because whenever I do, he gets upset with me.”

“What about Bruce?” Teri wondered if Jolene was the
only
complication.

“What about him?”

“You know.” Teri gestured vaguely, but Rachel understood what she meant.

“Bruce's been acting a little weird lately.” Rachel shook her head, as if to dispel thoughts of Jolene's father. “Remember I told you he phoned me in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Teri really wasn't feeling well. In fact, her stomach seemed to be pitching like a rowboat in a squall. She did her best to ignore it.

“He did it again.”

“When?”

“Last week. Not as late as that first night but well past the time for non-emergency calls.”

“What did he want?”

“That's just it. He didn't
want
anything. We talked for a few minutes, he told me Jolene's decided to run for class secretary, which I already knew because she'd told me herself, and then he hung up.” Rachel raised her hands in a questioning way. “I don't know what to make of it.”

“He might be afraid you're going to marry Nate and move to San Diego.”

“He didn't say that.”

“He wouldn't, would he?” Teri said. Judging by her own experience, men rarely said what they meant. Neither did women, but at least they were more likely to recognize their feelings and desires; they just expressed them indirectly. Most men, on the other hand, didn't actually
know
what was bothering them. She figured this was the case with Bruce Peyton.

“He asked if he could come over this weekend with Jolene.”

“I thought Nate was flying in.”

“He is.”

“Oh, boy.”

“See what I mean?” Rachel said.

Teri nodded. She wanted to ask what Rachel had told Bruce but suddenly felt light-headed. No longer did she
think
she might vomit, she knew it.

She leaped to her feet and raced toward the women's restroom. Pushing through the door, Teri barely made it inside the stall before her entire lunch came up.

“Teri?” Rachel followed her into the restroom. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She staggered out and leaned against the tiled wall.

“Miss Teri?” James called her from the doorway. “Everything all right in there? Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“Go away,” she yelled as she let her head fall forward. The room had started to swim. “I've got the flu,” she muttered to Rachel, who handed her a wad of tissues.

“The flu?” Rachel repeated with a giggle.

“You think this is funny?” she asked. “You ought to try upchucking your lunch and see how much fun it is.”

“I doubt you have the flu,” Rachel told her.

Fortunately Teri had bottled water in her purse; she rinsed out her mouth and wiped her face with the dampened tissues. “What do you mean this isn't flu? You've been watching too many episodes of
Grey's Anatomy,
haven't you?”

“Honestly, Teri, think about it. How long have you and Bobby been married?”

What should have been obvious from the first suddenly became clear. Rachel was right; this nausea wasn't due to any flu virus. She was pregnant. Her cycle had always been irregular but now that she considered it, she hadn't had a period in two months. That should have been a sign. After all, they both wanted children and they weren't using protection.

“Teri.” Rachel placed her hand on Teri's shoulder. “You look like you're going to faint.”

“Miss Teri?”

“I'm fine, James. Please wait outside.”

“You're sure? Should I take you to the doctor's?”

“James!”

Reluctantly he backed out of the restroom. It was a good thing no one else was in there at the moment, Teri thought. As soon as he was out of sight, she leaned against the wall again. “If Bobby's protective of me now, this news will only make it worse.”

“But you have to tell him,” Rachel insisted.

“I will—just not yet. He's obsessive as it is.”

“Because of those two men? But nothing's happened since.”

Teri hadn't said anything, not even to Rachel. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “I think it has, although Bobby didn't tell me about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The day of the hair show in Seattle.”

“Yes?”

“Remember how he called me out of the blue? He was frantic and he asked me about my necklace.” She pulled the gold medal out from under her blouse. She'd replaced the delicate chain at the first opportunity.

“He found it at home, right? You said you must've forgotten to put it on.”

Teri shook her head. “I had it on. I distinctly remember putting it on after my shower, like I do nearly every day.”

“But how would someone get it away from you without you knowing?”

“I have no idea.” Teri had asked herself the same question over and over. At the hair show, she'd been bumped any number of times. The place was crowded. Whoever had taken her necklace had done it quickly and cleverly, snapping the fragile chain.

“Why would anyone do that?” Rachel asked, her own voice dropping to a whisper.

“It's another chess player,” Teri told her friend. “He wants Bobby to lose, so he's threatening me in order to get Bobby to cooperate.”

“You have to go to the police,” Rachel said.

“Bobby won't. I've already talked to him about it. He wants to take care of this himself, his own way. He promised he'll call in law enforcement but only when he has the proof he needs. The thing is, Bobby wouldn't know how to throw a match if he tried. All his life he's been trained to win. Oh, he's lost on rare occasions but it sends him into a tailspin.”

“He won't risk letting anyone hurt you, though.”

Teri groaned. “I know. That's why he's stopped playing.”

“And that's why he's being so protective,” Rachel said with dawning comprehension. “Teri, this is awful!”

“I'd rather walk out of Bobby's life right now than allow him to give up chess because of me,” she muttered, wiping tears from her eyes with the sodden tissues she clutched.

“Oh, Teri,” Rachel said. “It's so wonderful to see how much you love Bobby.”

Sniffling, she nodded. She did love her husband. In fact, she'd found herself weeping easily these past few weeks and she'd assumed— Oh, my goodness, the pregnancy explained her tears! No wonder she'd been so emotional lately.

News of a baby would panic Bobby. She didn't dare tell him.

“I don't have any appointments for the rest of the afternoon,” Teri said, more to herself than Rachel.

“Are you going home?”

She nodded. “I think I'd better. I'm still not feeling well.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Thanks, but no. I plan to take a nap.” Nothing sounded more appealing at the moment.

James drove them back to the salon. As soon as he pulled up in front of Cedar Cove's mall, Rachel hugged her.

“Call me after you see Nate,” Teri said.

“I will.” James opened the door and Rachel ran lightly out.

This weekend could change her friend's life, Teri mused. She'd either agree to marry Nate—or not. She wasn't convinced Bruce would let himself be counted out.

On the drive home, Teri nearly fell asleep in the car. When they arrived, James helped her out, his manner even more attentive than usual.

“Thank you, James. And listen, what happened back there…”

“Yes, miss.”

“Please keep it to yourself.”

“Yes, Miss Teri.”

“I mean it.” She didn't want Bobby hearing about this episode from his driver. James had probably guessed she was pregnant, and she'd rather Bobby didn't figure it out quite yet. That would just multiply his worries—and hers.

James nodded, his hand supporting her elbow. He didn't meet her eyes.

Entering the house, she went straight to the den. As she'd expected, Bobby was there, sitting in front of his chessboard.

“Hi, Bobby.”

He didn't respond. His thoughts were on some chess move only he could see. She kissed his cheek and without another word wandered down to their bedroom. She quickly removed her clothes, then slipped beneath the covers. The sheets felt cool against her skin and she sank her head into the pillow and closed her eyes. Almost immediately Teri fell into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

The next thing she knew, her husband was sitting on the bed, his arm around her waist. She smiled and pressed her hand over his.

“The phone rang,” he said quietly.

“I didn't hear. Was it for me?”

“It was your sister. She got your message and said she can come to dinner next week.”

Teri rolled onto her back. “Did you mention that to James?”

Her husband nodded.

“Did he look happy?”

Bobby frowned, then shook his head. “No, he looked sad.”

Teri sighed. She could see that James and her sister were going to need some guidance to get this romance off the ground.