Rose Harbor in Bloom (5 page)

Read Rose Harbor in Bloom Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: Rose Harbor in Bloom
10.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Paul Rose was a good soldier and a fine officer.”

Lieutenant Colonel Milford didn’t need to tell me what I already knew.

“Please let me know if there’s anything more I can do for you.” He hesitated and added, “Is there, Jo Marie?”

“Not just yet … Thank you for the call.”

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more information.”

“Yes, please,” I managed to squeak out, struggling to hide the tears in my voice. “It was good of you to call.”

“Remember, I’m here if you have any questions.”

“I’ll remember.” My hand shook as I hung up the phone. When it came to anything having to do with Paul, I couldn’t hide my emotions. My life, my dreams were all tied up around my husband, and he’d been taken away from me. I didn’t know if I’d ever grow accustomed to this unexpected and tragic turn my life had taken. Meeting him, falling in love, and creating our future together had been some of the happiest days of my life. I’d given up on ever finding the right man. And then there he was when I’d least expected it.

I couldn’t understand why God would bring Paul and me together only to snatch him away. But then I’d done plenty of crying out to the Lord since I got the news of the helicopter crash.

Drawing in a deep breath, I was determined to hold myself together. I had one guest, and more would be arriving soon. Because my knees felt weak, I slumped down into a chair and braced my elbows against the table.

Rover came to me, as though sensing I was in need of consolation. He braced his front paws against the side of my thigh and rested his chin there. I placed my hand on his head and sat, drawing in deep breaths until the trembling had stopped.

I’d barely had time to compose myself when Hailey came down the stairs.

“I’m going out for a few minutes,” I told her. “Mary Smith is on the porch and seems to want her privacy, but if she needs anything, will you see that she’s made comfortable?”

Hailey’s eyes brightened. To this point I’d never left her to look after the inn or guests while I was away. I could see that being given this new responsibility pleased her.

“I’ll be happy to,” she said with real enthusiasm.

“I doubt I’ll be gone long.” Rover strained at his leash, eager to be on our way.

“I’ll look after the inn,” Hailey promised as I headed toward the door with the plate of cookies in one hand and the leash in the other. Hailey hurried down the remaining steps and opened the front door for me. “Have a good walk,” she said.

“Thanks, I will, and help yourself to a cookie or two if you want.”

“Okay. Peanut butter are my favorite, and by the way, where’s Mark?” she asked. “I thought for sure he’d be here today.”

Rather than explain to the teenager that the two of us were on the outs, I shrugged. “He’s probably busy with something else.”

“He knows about the open house, doesn’t he?”

“He knows,” I said, and tried to hide my frustration and disappointment in him.

I never had been one to hold on to my anger for long. As angry as Mark had made me, as the afternoon progressed I began to regret my heated exchange with him more and more. While I didn’t appreciate Mark’s attitude, I had to admit the crux of our disagreement was based on the fact he didn’t want to see me get hurt. Despite what he thought, I knew I hadn’t been in any real danger.

I could see I wasn’t going to rest until we settled this awkwardness between us. In addition, I’d been shaken by the call and needed a friend. Mark was a good listener. He didn’t say much, but when he did I was taken by his wisdom and insights. Maybe the plate of cookies would be the peace offering we both needed.

Whether Mark agreed to return to the job or not was of little consequence, although I hoped he would. Either way, it was our friendship that mattered. We’d both behaved foolishly. One of us was going to need to take the first step, and while I wasn’t willing to say I was in the wrong, I was willing to suggest we put this difference of opinion behind us. I hoped he felt the same.

It seemed Rover knew exactly where I intended to go, because he automatically headed in the right direction. Mark’s home and place of business were only a couple of blocks away from the inn, and we’d made the walk several times in the last few months, but always for business purposes.

Unsure if Mark would even be home, I debated what I’d do if he wasn’t. His workshop was in the back of the house. If he was away, I decided to leave the cookies in the shop and hope Mark would find them. That would make the next move up to Mark, which was far more comfortable for me. It was hard enough on my ego to be the one to take the first step. Swallowing my pride wasn’t an easy thing.

As I neared the workshop, I heard the radio. Mark was apparently in his shop listening to some talk show. Rover barked and I
shushed him, preferring not to announce our arrival. I hadn’t really thought about what I wanted to say and wished I’d come better prepared.

I squared my shoulders and opened the door. Mark barely glanced up. He was sanding a cradle, one I’d seen him working on before. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship. It wasn’t a commissioned piece but one he worked on in his spare time.

Mark’s hands stilled when he saw it was me. After the briefest hesitation he went back to sanding.

“Hi,” I said. My mouth felt dry, and I stood awkwardly just inside the door of his workshop.

“Hi.”

He certainly wasn’t making this easy.

“I baked cookies this morning.”

“Peanut butter?” he asked, and continued sanding, his hands working the wood, smoothing away the rough edges.

“Your favorite. I brought you a plate.”

Mark glanced up as if noticing it for the first time.

“It’s a peace offering,” I explained.

He moved to the other end of the cradle but continued to face me. “Is this because you want me to come back and work on the rose garden?”

“No … not exactly.”

“Then why?”

“Because I consider you a friend,” I said, “and I don’t want to leave matters the way they were yesterday.”

“You were being foolish.”

“You were being unreasonable,” I returned just as adamantly. “It might be best if we can simply agree to disagree. Do you think we can do that?”

Mark shrugged as if it was of no concern to him one way or the other but I detected a hint of a smile that told me our disagreement hadn’t set well with him, either.

“Do you want me to leave the cookies?”

He glanced up and laughed outright. “I’m not stupid. Yeah, I want the cookies.”

I waited for a moment, expecting him to say something more. He didn’t. Disappointed, I set the plate down and turned to leave. Rover had curled up on the floor and didn’t seem to want to budge. I tugged at his leash. Most times he was the one dragging me. His reluctance was unexpected.

“I’ll go, then,” I said, disappointment heavy on my shoulders.

Just as I was heading out the door, dragging Rover, who staunchly refused to move, Mark spoke: “No need to rush off. Besides, we should talk about the rose garden.” He moved away from the crib and tucked his hands in his back pockets, his elbows jutting out at his sides.

“What about it?”

He walked around to the front of the cradle. “Do you want me working on it or not?”

I shrugged in the same nonchalant way he had earlier, as if it was of little concern to me. “That’s completely up to you. You’re the one who decided to quit.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” He moved to where he kept a coffeepot and poured himself a mug and then gestured toward me with the glass pot, offering me a cup, too.

I wasn’t much in the mood for coffee but I could see this was his way of saying he was willing to let bygones be bygones, so I nodded.

“Quitting wasn’t one of my brighter ideas. I was looking forward to working on that project.”

I smiled, and he returned the smile, and the burden of regret I’d been carrying lifted from between my shoulder blades.

He handed me the coffee, which had a distinct burned scent as though it’d been sitting on the burner far too long. “Is this fresh?” I asked.

Mark nodded. “Made it myself yesterday.”

I laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

He smiled again but didn’t answer me, which led me to believe he wasn’t kidding.

“It’ll put hair on your chest,” he said, taking a sip.

“Just what I need.” I tasted it, grimaced, and set the mug aside.

Mark pulled out a stool, which I took as an invitation for me to sit. Once I was seated, he peeled off the plastic wrap from the plate and reached for a cookie. “Want one?” he asked.

Seeing that I’d been baking a good portion of the day, I wasn’t interested. It was difficult enough losing weight being around the kitchen so much of the time. “No, thanks.”

Mark grabbed a second stool and sat down across from me. He studied me for a moment and then frowned. “We’re square, right?”

“I hope so.” I hesitated and then asked, “About the rose garden? You’re coming back?”

“If that’s what you want, but don’t expect any miracles. It won’t be done in time for your open house.”

“I guessed as much.”

Mark munched down on the cookie. “Your best to date,” he mumbled, with crumbs at the side of his mouth. He was a lanky guy, and from what I could see he was probably one of those people who could eat whatever he liked without ever needing to worry about his weight.

“If we’re square, then what’s troubling you?” he pressed, as he reached for a second cookie.

“What makes you think anything is?” I asked, surprised he could read me so easily, and unsure I liked that.

He frowned slightly, and I bristled a bit under his scrutiny. He pointed his finger at the middle point between his eyes. “You get these funny little lines right here when you’re concerned about something.”

“I don’t, either.”

“You do.”

I didn’t want to argue with him. I knew he was right. “I had a disturbing phone call just before I left the house.”

“Oh?” He cocked his eyebrows and took another swallow of the coffee. How he could drink the bitter liquid I didn’t know.

“Paul’s commanding officer contacted me.”

Mark set his coffee aside. “About?”

“The site where the helicopter went down is now accessible.” I clenched my hands in my lap and looked down, avoiding eye contact. I was grateful to have someone to talk to about this latest development. “Lieutenant Colonel Milford let me know that the army has sent in a team to retrieve the bodies.”

Mark brushed cookie crumbs from his knee as he assimilated what I told him. “I would think you’d want to bury Paul’s body.”

“I do,” I whispered, and was surprised by the slight tremble in my voice. “Of course I do. I don’t want my husband left on some mountain on the other side of the world. Paul and the other men who were with him deserve a proper burial.”

“Then why did you say you had a
disturbing
phone call?”

“I said that?” All I remembered saying was that I’d gotten a phone call. The
disturbing
part must have slipped out unnoticed.

“Clearly you’re upset about it. Is it because anything having to do with Paul is like opening a healing wound?”

The question was a valid one, and I suppose that was part of it. “Perhaps.”

“But there’s more?”

I nodded and swallowed against the hard lump that had formed in my throat. Mark’s gaze went to my hands, which I’d clenched in my lap, and I noticed they had started to shake. I wanted to tuck them under my arms, hide my reaction, but I didn’t want to be obvious about it.

He didn’t say anything for an uncomfortable moment, nor did I. It was as if neither one of us knew what to say.

I was the one who broke the silence. “If Paul’s body is located, then I’ll need to give up the fantasy that he might still be alive.”

“Is there a possibility of that?”

I shook my head. It went without saying that the life insurance money wouldn’t have been released if there was the slightest chance Paul could have survived the helicopter crash. I’d long suspected Paul’s commanding officer had stepped in to facilitate the dispersal of insurance monies to family members.

“It’s time, don’t you think?” Mark asked.

“No,” I said with conviction. “Not yet. I can’t.” We’d never discussed Paul before, and I realized that although I considered Mark a friend he couldn’t possibly understand the emotions I was dealing with in regard to this latest upheaval concerning my soldier husband. I shouldn’t have mentioned the phone call. Eager to leave now, I slid off the stool. Rover reluctantly came to his feet.

“I need to get back,” I announced, my words sounding stiff and formal. “Come on, Rover.” I tugged at his leash and he responded right away, straining in his rush to get out the workshop door.

“Thanks for the cookies,” Mark said, walking me to the doorway.

“Sure … any time.” I lifted my hand in farewell.

He responded by raising his own hand. “I appreciate that you’re willing to admit you were in the wrong.”

I almost started to argue with him before I realized that last bit was intended as a joke. “Very funny,” I muttered.

Mark chuckled. I could see that he wanted to help but didn’t know how. It was too soon to talk about what I’d learned, not when I had yet to properly digest this news myself.

“See ya,” he said as he held open the workshop door.

I nodded. This was Mark’s way of letting me know he’d be around again soon.

I could tell that Rover would have liked a much longer walk,
but I felt the need to get back to the inn. I didn’t want to leave Hailey alone for long.

“We’ll take a longer walk another day,” I promised Rover. He continued to strain against the leash until he could see that it would do no good and then gave in and reluctantly headed back to the inn.

Mark remained standing in the doorway. I felt his gaze, and when I looked over my shoulder I found him leaning against the jamb, watching me. How long he remained there, I didn’t know.

Chapter 5

Hailey met me at the door when I returned to the inn.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Nodding, Hailey handed me a pink message slip. “Annie Newton called and left her phone number. She said she’d call back in a few minutes.”

Other books

Scattered Petals by Amanda Cabot
Susanna Fraser by A Dream Defiant
No Words Alone by Autumn Dawn
Broken Soup by Jenny Valentine
Skagboys by Welsh, Irvine
Case of the School Ghost by Dori Hillestad Butler
The Hustle by Doug Merlino
A Woman of Passion by Virginia Henley