Torchlight (22 page)

Julia sat down on the second step of the entry stairs and watched him as he went to get his bags. She could not bear to tell him that she’d had second thoughts.
This is right
, she told herself.
This is right.

“How ’bout I fire up your grill and fix us a couple of steaks for dinner?”

“Sounds fun,” she said. “I haven’t had anything off the barbecue for eons. I’ll do some potatoes and salad.”

“No, you won’t,” his voice playfully ominous. “You are the
injured party here. I can make a salad and potatoes as well as you.”

“Miles! What has come over you?”

“Well, let’s see. I doubled my salary in one year. I’m thinking about buying a truck. I have an entire weekend to devote to my bride-to-be, and it just feels good to be here again. How can life be better?”

“I like this change in attitude. Is it only temporary? Will you be back to your obsessive self tomorrow?”

“No ma’am. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Upstairs, Trevor watched stoically.
He’s playing the part to lull her into saying yes. Why can’t she see it?
He was so angry, he turned and punched his fist through the wallboard he had just finished plastering.
Maybe I better punch a couple more holes up here rather than be tempted by Miles’s perfect face.

After his fury was spent, he sat leaning against the damaged wall.
Why, God? Why me? Why did I have to fall in love with the one woman I can’t have?

Two hours later Trevor finished repairing the holes and put his equipment away for the night. He was surprised that Julia and Miles had not left the house for dinner. He discovered them on the living room couch, nuzzling and talking quietly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said stiffly. “I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

Miles stood, looking smug. “Things progressing well, Kenbridge?”

“Counting your assets before Julia’s even said yes, Beckley?”

“Trevor!” Julia said, angry at his insinuation. “Miles is simply trying to be polite.”

“Sorry, Julia.” He looked down as she struggled to rise, then met Miles’s steely gaze. “Guess I’m not as taken in by Miles’s facade as you seem to be. What is it? The flashy truck? His one attempt to drop the business suit? He’s a fake, and you can’t see it.”

“Trevor!” she said again, really angry this time.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Miles said soothingly. “No harm done. We know the truth. I think Trevor here just wants to drive any wedge he can between us.”

Julia looked at Trevor, obviously stunned by his behavior.

Trevor walked out without a word.

The next morning Trevor watched as Miles drove out of the front courtyard, probably on his way into town for the daily paper. The
New York Times
and
Wall Street Journal
made their way to Oak Harbor around ten o’clock each morning, and he bet Miles could not live without them.

Trevor ran upstairs to Julia’s bedroom, knocking loudly and, in his zeal to speak with her, entering without waiting for her permission. She stood in front of her full-length mirror, wearing the burnoose, the hood covering her head.

He stopped, forgetting what he had to say. Her image hearkened back to a hundred years of romance, love, and hope. “You … you look exactly like Anna.”

Julia ducked her head, pulling off the hood and struggling with the button at her throat. “Trevor!” She shifted self-consciously under his gaze.

“Look, Julia, I’m sorry. I blew it last night. I had no right to say those things. Your decisions are your own. I’ve kept my views to myself all this time. I haven’t told you … What I mean to say … Last
night … Well, last night, I just lost it. I realized he was here for your answer, and I haven’t even had the guts to tell you how I feel about you. I took all my frustration out on Miles.”

She gave up on the burnoose button and looked out the window. “I said yes,” she said quietly.

“You said
what?
”
No! Not before …

She turned to face him. “I said yes.” She raised her chin, daring him to challenge her, hoping he would challenge her?

“I see,” he said, his voice low. “When’s the big day?”

“August.”

August.
He struggled for breath and looked her in the eye. “I hope you’ve chosen well, Julia. You deserve happiness.”

He turned to go, then paused in the doorway. “I’d like to stay on through the summer, if we can make it work out. I’ll be out of your hair before the wedding.”

She raised her hand unconsciously, as if to cry out for him to come back, but the engagement ring on her finger silenced her. Julia turned back to the window and pulled the hood back over her head as the tears began to flow.

Dear God, am I doing the right thing? Last night it felt so right. Today it feels dead wrong. Please, please help me.

Once Julia’s cast was off, she was able to work in the garden. She and Trevor had been fairly successful in avoiding each other over the past weeks, and the workers were definitely making progress. Trevor had decided to attack the job of stripping and repairing the hardwood
floors, as well as the grand staircase, so Julia decided it was better if she worked on the garden.

Four men worked with Trevor on the floors inside while another assisted Julia in ripping out long-dead foliage and pruning overgrown bushes. She figured that by August the garden would be in full bloom, a glorious place for the small reception she and Miles had planned.

The house still needed to be painted and wallpapered, but all in all, it was coming together. Lonely since she and Trevor had parted ways over Miles, Julia spent more and more time with Tara.

Lately Trevor had not even asked how Anna was faring. It obviously pained him too much to think of those happy evenings, watching Julia delve into her ancestors’ past.

They passed each other with mumbled hellos, completely ill at ease in each other’s presence. Tara watched how both Julia and Trevor acted but kept her observations to herself. Everything in her wanted to shake Julia until she showed some sense, but Ben had talked her into remaining silent.
Humph
, she thought.
What does he know about love?

Early one evening Tara drove to Torchlight with the five forsythia bushes and fifteen rosebushes Julia had ordered a week earlier. Julia had made some headway in the old cutting garden, and Tara could already see it would become an appropriate centerpiece to the spectacular grounds of the future inn.

Julia opened the door and greeted Tara with a hug. “We have to take refuge in the kitchen again. The boys brought in professional sanders to take off all the paint and grime. They’d kill me if we got any dirt in the other rooms after they worked all day to get every speck off the boards. Tomorrow, they seal her back up.”

“They’ll be beautiful. I can’t wait to see it all finished!”

“Me either. Then we’ll work all fall, painting, wallpapering, and furnishing the other rooms.”

“So Trevor still has quite a bit of work ahead of him.”

“Trevor’s going to leave before the wedding,” Julia said, keeping her voice light. “We both think it’d be best if he left a week beforehand. He and Miles just don’t get along, and I don’t want anything to ruin my big day.”

“Even if the groom at the end of the aisle is the wrong man?” Tara wanted to take the words back as soon as they were out of her mouth, but now she was committed.

Julia turned, looking confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“I guess I’m the only one around here watching you two die a slow death because you’re not together. You’ve both lost weight—”

“My cast—”

“Julia, it isn’t your cast. It’s the weeks you and Trevor have been at odds. If you could see the man! He sits in my restaurant and plays with his soup until I tell him to get out. He scares the other customers. Even Ben can’t reach him, and they were beginning to be good friends. As far as I can tell, he just stays holed up in the cottage, coming out only for work and church.

“And you! Your hair is dull, your face is white, even though it’s summer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sick. But I know what’s wrong. Your hearts are screaming at you, and you are both too stubborn to listen. No, I take that back. Trevor has tried to listen. But he doesn’t want to make the decision for you. He’s reached out as far as he can, but you reach back with a swing of Miles’s diamond ring to his stomach. He can’t hold on much longer.”

Julia tried to find the words to express what she was feeling. “I just think I’m doing the right thing. I can’t think about pulling out of the wedding. Miles has tried so hard—he’s ready to move to the East, for me. Besides, Trevor’s never told me how he feels. I don’t
really
know he loves me.”

She sounded desperate, trying to convince herself.

“Don’t you, Julia? Don’t you know?”

Tara couldn’t help it. She’d miss Ben, Mike, Julia, and the others, but she was thrilled to be going. After her visit to Julia, she had decided that everyone needed to make their own decisions, their own way in life. She was. She couldn’t control anyone’s life but her own. She couldn’t make Ben say the words she longed to hear. She couldn’t force Julia and Trevor to see the love between them. All she could do was walk her own walk.

This was her first step. She’d turned in the final manuscript weeks earlier, and she was on her way to Los Angeles, Seattle, Minneapolis, Chicago, and New York to do some advance promotion. She was scheduled to appear on thirteen local cable television shows as a guest chef.

She kissed Mike quickly on the cheek and hugged Julia goodbye, then nodded at Benjamin. “Good-bye, Ben.”

“Be careful,” he said gruffly.

“Yes,” she said tightly. “I will.”

She turned and hopped into her aging Volkswagen Bug and turned the key.

“Good one, Dad,” Mike said. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than ‘be careful’?”

“Leave it alone, Mike.”

“You all take care,” Tara said, taking a moment to look each one in the eye.

“Go with God,” Julia said.

“I intend to,” Tara returned, feeling the first spark of life in her heart in some time. She stepped on the gas and left her driveway, as well as her nearest and dearest. Time away, that’s what she needed. Time away.

That afternoon Julia left the lighthouse and walked along the granite-strewn shore, deep in thought. Tara had left Ben because he couldn’t say the words; she was leaving Trevor because he couldn’t say them either. But what about her? Wasn’t she a part of it too? Couldn’t she say the words herself? See if she was the only one who wondered if they could have made it, had not Miles been a part of the picture?

A fisherman’s sweater kept her warm as the sun sank, and she stared out at the blue-green summer sea. The wind blew, and she closed her eyes, raising her face to it.
Talk to me, Father. Help me to hear.

Julia heard nothing but the familiar sounds of the ocean. Taking comfort in the soothing music of the Atlantic, she stared and stared out to sea.

“Julia.” The word sounded like a plea, a deep desire expressed, a cry of agony on his tongue.

Julia turned. She had not expected that he would follow her, yet she was not surprised to see him there. “Trevor.”

She fought off her desire to fall into his arms.
Miles.
She’d come so far with him, it wouldn’t be fair.

But Trevor moved before she could speak, pulling her to him.
She paused, surprised, then she clung to him, unable to resist, never wanting to let him go. They held each other for several long moments before he spoke. “I’ve missed you,” he said huskily.

He moved away slightly, bending down to kiss her, but she stepped away. “No. Don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have …”

“What are you talking about?” His voice was tender, pleading. He could obviously see the inner struggle written all over her face. “This is what we’ve both wanted. What we’ve both been waiting for.” He pulled her to him again.

“No, Trevor. I can’t. I can’t!”

Trevor looked at her, hurt showing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and walked away.

Julia turned back to the ocean, more confused than ever.