Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel (18 page)

BOOK: Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel
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“Not yet.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to question him further. Instead, he bent down and kissed her, his mouth lingering over hers. His kiss was deep and hungry, and left her breathless with wonder that this could actually be happening to her.

When the kiss ended, Ellie rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For the kiss?”

“Yes,” she said, content and happy, happier than she could ever remember being. “For everything, really.”

“I hope I won’t disappoint you,” Tom said, so low that at first Ellie wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Disappoint me?” she repeated. “That would be impossible. You’re everything I could ever have hoped for and beyond.”

“I’m better-looking than you thought, right?” he teased.

“Indeed.”

“Indeed?” he chided. “That’s an old-fashioned word, isn’t it?”

“I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl, I guess.”

Tom rubbed his chin across her crown, and the wind whipped tendrils of dark hair against her cheek. “You’ve lived a sheltered life.”

She couldn’t deny it. “My mother and grandparents saw to that.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why they felt it was so important to keep you protected?” he asked.

She hadn’t, not really. To Ellie, that was the way it was; she didn’t know any different. “No, actually, I never thought much about it.”

“You’re right, you probably wouldn’t.”

Although she couldn’t see his face, Ellie heard the frown in his voice. “I was the only grandchild, and my grandmother lived in fear that something bad would happen to me,” she said, thinking back over her youth.

“Like what?”

Ellie sighed, nestled into his warm embrace. “I never knew exactly, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with my father.”

“You’re joking?”

“I’m not,” Ellie assured him. She recalled comments about her father that were abruptly cut off the instant she walked into the room. More than once she could remember hearing her father’s name mentioned in furious whispers.

“What did they think he would do?” Tom asked, and it sounded as if he was offended, although it didn’t make sense that he should be.

Ellie wasn’t entirely sure. “I can’t say. In retrospect, it seems rather odd, doesn’t it?”

“It does. Maybe they were afraid your father might come and take you away. That would explain why they decided you should be homeschooled.”

Ellie automatically shook her head. “There were more reasons than that.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“You have to remember, my grandparents were older. Once when I came down with the flu, I very generously shared the bug with my grandmother and she ended up in the hospital. Everyone was deathly worried about her.”

“And you felt guilty.”

“I was in preschool at the time. I still recall feeling bad that my grandmother would be so sick because of me.” Naturally, she’d been too young to understand that a childhood ailment would hit an elderly woman much harder.

“In other words, homeschooling you was protection in case you inadvertently brought home a virus?”

“Yes, but being taught at home wasn’t a bad thing, Tom. My grandmother was my teacher because Mom worked during the day. We went on all kinds of field trips, and lessons were always fun.”

“She didn’t worry about getting sick when she took you around? Did she think your being with her would ward off any bugs?”

“You’re being silly.”

“No, I’m serious. Wasn’t she worried?”

“Apparently not.” That didn’t make a lot of sense to Ellie, now that she thought about it.

“What about your social development?” Tom asked. “Were you allowed to have friends?”

“A few. It wasn’t bad, Tom. You make it sound like I was in prison. It wasn’t like that.”

“What happened once you were old enough to date?”

This was harder to explain. “You seem to think I didn’t date, but I did,” she said, somewhat defensively.

“Did your grandparents and mother have an approved list of boys they considered acceptable?” he asked. Again, she detected a slight hint of derision in his voice, as if he was angry on her behalf. And, really, it wasn’t necessary. She had been loved and sheltered from many of the pitfalls of life.

“By the time I was old enough to date, my grandparents had both died.”

He didn’t ask about either of them passing, and Ellie was grateful. She and her mother had both taken their deaths hard.

“Tell me about your first date,” Tom urged.

Ellie laughed, and Tom joined her, chuckling himself. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I was in braces and my mother insisted I wear a dress and I was so terribly shy I don’t think I said two words the entire evening.
Thankfully, we went to the movies and a lot of conversation wasn’t required.”

“How old were you? Thirteen? Fourteen?”

“Sixteen.”

She felt his arm around her tighten ever so slightly. “Sixteen,” he repeated.

“I went to a dance once when I was fifteen, but no one asked me to dance.”

“Were the boys in Oregon blind?” he asked incredulously.

Ellie smiled, loving the way he seemed to be annoyed on her behalf.

Then, because she wanted to change the subject, she asked, “What’s your earliest memory?”

“My earliest memory,” Tom repeated slowly. “Let me see. Ah, yes.” He kissed her temple before he continued. “I was with my parents on a picnic. Mom spread out a blanket and we had a wonderful lunch. There was a lazy river close by, and I’d gone down to look for minnows with a cup in my hand, intent on going fishing.”

“With a cup?”

“It’s the best way,” he insisted.

“How old were you?”

Tom shrugged. “I must have been three or four. I remember seeing a small fish and I wanted to catch it in my cup so I could show my dad what a good fisherman I was. I made the mistake of stepping into the water.”

“And slipped?”

“It might have been a lazy river, but the current knocked me off my feet and down I went. I remember hearing my mother scream and my dad racing out into the water. He made a tremendous splash and caught me under my arms and scooped me up.”

“Did you lose the fish?” she teased.

“And the cup. I was more upset about that than anything.” He kissed her again and then asked, “What’s your first memory?”

“I read once that almost always a first memory involves something that frightens us.”

“Were you frightened?”

“I was, but it wasn’t by being swept away in a current. My mother put me down for a nap and I wasn’t tired.”

“How old were you?”

“I don’t know, but I was still in the crib. The only reason I know that is because I can remember seeing the bars as I pressed my cheek against the sheet.”

“So young.”

“Really young,” she agreed.

“What happened?”

Ellie closed her eyes. It was as if it’d happened only a few years ago; the memory remained vivid in her mind. “For whatever reason, my mother had a picture of my father on the dresser. She’d taken it out and looked at it and hadn’t put it away … that’s the only thing I could guess.”

“Do you think she loved him?”

“I do, in her own way, but she was afraid, I think.”

“Of what?”

“Don’t sidetrack me, I’m still in my crib.”

“Right, sorry.”

Ellie enjoyed this. It seemed there wasn’t anything she couldn’t talk to Tom about. “I wanted to see my father’s picture. Mom had this crocheted runner my grandmother made for her across the top of her dresser. I thought that if I tugged on the runner, I might be able to reach to the photograph of my father.”

“So what happened?”

“Mom had a vase on the dresser, too, an antique that she loved and—”

Tom broke into her story. “The vase fell and shattered into a thousand pieces.”

“Hey, this is my story,” she said, and elbowed him in the ribs.

“That’s what happened, though, isn’t it?”

“Yup.” To this day, Ellie could remember looking at that broken vase through the slats of her crib. Eventually, she fell asleep the way she was meant to, but as she drifted off her mind was full of doom and gloom and the expectation that she was going to get a spanking.

“And you were afraid,” Tom said for her. “So what happened?”

“I don’t remember anything after that.”

“So what you read is true in both our cases. It was a frightening moment for each of us.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you get to see your father’s photograph?”

“No. As young as I was, I was afraid if I tugged on the runner again that something else might fall and break.”

“Even at three or four you were one smart cookie.”

Ellie could see that Tom had turned the sailboat around, and they started back toward the cove.

“I spoke to my mom last night after I got back to the inn,” she mentioned, hoping to sound as though it was nothing to talk to her mother after midnight.

“I bet she was worried.”

“Understandably so.” She didn’t want to paint a picture of her mother as a control freak, although in some ways Virginia was.

“Right,” Tom concurred, but he didn’t sound convinced. “You were meeting a stranger. Someone not on her approved list, someone she didn’t know.”

“You weren’t a stranger to me,” Ellie reminded him. “I want you to meet Mom one day, and I don’t want you to think badly of her. She’s been a good mother.”

“Overprotective.”

“Yes.”

“Domineering.”

“To a certain extent, yes, but in the gentlest of ways.”

“She’s chain-linked her life to yours, Ellie.”

He spoke the truth, and while Ellie had never heard it said in exactly those terms, Tom was right. It was as if she couldn’t make a decision without her mother making her own wishes known.

“Other than meeting me, have you ever done anything your mother disapproved of you doing?” he asked.

“Of course I have,” Ellie insisted.

He chuckled like he found that hard to believe. “Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, on my first date she wanted me to wear my white dress and I insisted on wearing my pink one.”

“Why not the white one?”

“Because I looked like I was in a wedding party.”

Tom laughed. “Who won that disagreement?”

Ellie sighed. He would ask that. “Mom.”

“So you were dressed as a bridesmaid on your first date.”

“Wrong,” she was quick to correct him. “I resembled the flower girl more than a bridesmaid.”

As the marina came into view, Tom stood. “Do you think you could hold on to the helm for a couple minutes?”

“Me?”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I’m going forward to lower the sails, but I’ll be back before you even notice I’m away.”

Ellie sincerely doubted that. “Okay.” Talk about being out of her comfort zone. She grabbed hold of the helm with both hands. Earlier he’d shown her how to make sure the wind was in the sails by keeping an eye on a small piece of yarn attached to the mast.

True to his word, Tom had the two sails lowered within a matter of minutes, and then they motored toward the marina.

Ellie glanced up. The waterfront was alive with activity. The sidewalk was crowded with those enjoying the park. Off to one side was the farmers’ market, and it seemed to be doing a brisk business.

Tom moored the boat in the same slot from which they’d left. With only a minimum of effort, he leaped onto the dock and secured the craft. Then he took extra care to store the sails and leave the boat in the same condition in which they’d found it.

When he finished, he looked up and hesitated before glancing back at her. “Are you ready for your surprise?” he asked.

“Sure.” That odd look was back in his eyes. She read uncertainty and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

Taking her by the hand, he led her up the ramp to the waterfront park. “There’s someone here I want you to meet,” he said. His hand tightened around hers.

“Who?”

Tom didn’t look at her. “My dad,” he said.

A middle-aged man stepped toward them and a chill ran down Ellie’s arms.

“This is my dad,” Tom said. “My stepdad,” he amended.

“Hello,” Ellie said, smiling at the other man. He was attractive, with silver hairs at his temples adding to his appeal. His eyes were dark and serious, and in them she read doubt and that same uncertainty she’d seen in Tom. “I’m Eleanor,” she said.

“You’re Ellie,” the other man said. “And I’m your father.”

Chapter 16

Maggie’s mind was in absolute turmoil. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be pregnant, she just couldn’t. A pregnancy would ruin her life, her marriage, her future.

“You okay?” Roy asked, as they left Cedar Cove, driving around the cove. After reviewing their options, they’d decided to take the Bremerton ferry into Seattle and spend the day on the waterfront. It’d been several years since they’d visited Pike Place Market and enjoyed the multitude of tourist activities the city had to offer.

“I’m fine,” Maggie assured her husband, smiling for all she was worth, but at the moment, that wasn’t much. As it was, she couldn’t be sure how long she would be able to hide her fear and terror from her husband. One thing was for certain: She couldn’t, she wouldn’t blurt everything out the way she had before when she confessed what she’d done. That had proved disastrous. Their marriage had
barely managed to survive one hit. Another in such quick succession was sure to do them in for good.

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