Rock Harbor Series - 01 - Without a Trace (6 page)

Bree grinned. “You’ve missed your calling.”

Naomi smiled back. “You have any idea who all will be there?” Her bejeweled fingers played idly with the fringes of her gold shawl.

“Everyone who can help Hilary. Business owners, other politicians, ordinary people with a tad of influence. The guest list will read like a
Who’s Who of the Upper Peninsula
.”

“Do you suppose Donovan will be there? That’s pretty cool he asked you out. He’d make a good husband,” Naomi said.

The diffidence in Naomi’s voice struck a wrong chord with Bree, who glanced at her friend sharply and said, “I’m not interested in Donovan, but it sounds like you are. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for. He’ll find it hard to trust another woman after his wife ran off like that. And two small children can be a handful, especially when they aren’t your own.”

“It’s getting to where a girl can’t ask a question without risking her ring finger,” Naomi complained. “I didn’t say I was interested. I was just wondering if he would leave the children for something like this. That must be the worst thing about being a single parent.”

A chuckle bubbled out of Bree’s throat. “Cut the outraged spinster act, Naomi. This is me, remember? I know the difference between casual interest and something more, and this is something more.”

Naomi compressed her lips and looked away. “Mom will have me married by the end of the month if she finds out. I’m sure there’s no hope anyway. If you’re his type, I’m obviously not. Besides, you’ve got
an advantage: Emily likes you. Did you notice she tagged after you right up to the time the ambulance took her away?”

Bree would allow no man to come between her and Naomi. Men were as plentiful as salmon, but a best friend was a freshwater pearl. “She’s just a kid enamored with Samson. Give her time. I have no intention of dating him. When did this interest of yours start?”

“When I was fifteen.” She chuckled, but it was only halfhearted. “I was just a pesky little twerp back when he was my brother’s best friend.”

“Bat those big brown eyes at him, and he’ll be a goner.”

“I’m not very good at flirting.” Naomi sighed and twisted her bracelet around and around on her wrist.

“What is it about Donovan that’s kept you hooked all this time?” Bree turned into the parking lot of the community center.

“He’s real,” Naomi said. “And he loves God as much as I do. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like God is telling me he and the children belong with me, that I need to take care of them. They need me.”

Bree hunched her shoulders at the God talk. Fortunately, they’d arrived. Any conversations about God and his expectations would have to wait.

Built by Rock Harbor’s early residents during the heyday of the Copper Queen mining era, no expense had been spared in the construction of the beautiful community center. It stood in stark contrast to the rough wooden buildings in other parts of town.

Inside, the patina of age and old money gave an elegance to the central hall that newer, more expensive buildings couldn’t match. Crystal chandeliers glittered with prismatic color and light while men and women arrayed in every imaginable style of dress milled around the floor. Some wore suits and brightly colored dresses, while others came dressed in jeans and flannel shirts. Hilary wouldn’t turn away anyone who could cast a vote. Glassware tinkled while laughter and conversation formed a constant background hum.

Bree felt as out of place as a starling in the ocean. “We should let Hilary know we’re here.” What she really wanted to do was find a corner to hide in until she could slip back to the lighthouse. Though she called Rock Harbor home, many in town still regarded her as a newcomer, even after nearly five years as a resident.

“You go ahead,” Naomi said, looking past Bree. “I want to talk to Donovan.”

So he was here. Bree watched Naomi move to Donovan’s side and smile up at him. If that man hurt sweet Naomi, she’d make him regret it. How Bree intended to protect her friend, she wasn’t sure, but she’d lay down her life for Naomi. First, though, she needed to let her presence be known to her sister-in-law.

Hilary and Mason were talking with Jacob Zinn, an older man who ran a fishing resort on the edge of town. Mason gave Bree a smile.

“Bree, how nice you look,” Hilary said. She leaned forward and touched her lips to Bree’s cheek. “You know Jacob Zinn, don’t you?”

Bree nodded and shook hands with Jacob.

“Mrs. Nicholls.” He pressed her fingers briefly. “I had thought you would have headed back to Oregon by now. There’s not much in Rock Harbor to interest an outsider, eh?” His dark eyes flickered over her then just as quickly dismissed her. He spoke with the familiar Yooper cadence, punctuating his sentence with an “eh” and ending with an upward lilt that made the statement almost a question.

How long would she have to live here before people like Jacob accepted her? Twenty years, fifty? If she took out an ad in the newspaper and proclaimed her intention never to leave, he still wouldn’t believe it. “This is my home, Mr. Zinn. My family is here.”

He snorted and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “They will never be found, Mrs. Nicholls. The North Woods guards her secrets well. I suggest you pick up your life and get on with it.” Without waiting for a reply, he nodded to Hilary and strode away.

“That man is so rude,” Hilary said. She linked arms with Bree. “We’re your family, not just Rob and Davy. Come with me. The Asterses just arrived, and I want to say hello.”

Though Jacob Zinn’s invective had made Bree reel, Hilary’s words made her heart sing. Words of approval from her were as rare as a Michigan monkey flower. If she could freeze this moment, the next time Hilary bit her head off she could remember this and savor it. She walked arm in arm with Hilary to greet Fay and Steve Asters, with Mason trailing at a distance.

Hilary dropped Bree’s arm and held out a hand to Fay. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, her gaze on Steve.

Bree knew Fay and Steve Asters fairly well. As manager of the Rock Harbor Savings and Loan, Steve had been forced to handle the mortgage paperwork on the lighthouse when the loan officer quit. Rob had trusted Steve, and Bree found him quite charming. She and Fay met for coffee once in a while, though Bree found the other woman’s intense need for attention somewhat off-putting. An hour at a time was the most she could usually stomach being with her.

Hilary launched into easy conversation with Steve. Bree sometimes wondered if there was more history between Hilary and Steve than a simple high-school romance that ended when Steve fell for Fay.

“How goes the search?” Fay asked with a flip of her palm while Steve chatted with Mason and Hilary. Fay’s fingers fluttered in the air to punctuate every word. Her dark blue eyes glittered with avid interest in everything around her.

“Nowhere,” Bree said. Just once, she wished people would talk to her about something else. But the search was always the first topic. Did they ever stop to think she might be interested in the weather or politics?

“Maybe I could join you one day,” Fay said, twisting the gold hoops in her ears. “I saw something the other day that needed checking
out. There was a woman outside a cabin. In the ravine beside it, I thought I saw an old airplane seat.”

Bree had learned to take everything Fay said as the bid for attention it usually was. Six months ago, Fay had told everyone in Anu Nicholls’s shop that she’d seen a jacket like Davy’s along the river near Ontonagon. Bree had rushed there only to find a man’s red parka rather than a child’s blue jacket. “An airplane seat?” she asked, measuring her interest. “Are you sure?”

“Not totally sure, but it looked odd sitting there. I just can’t remember what sector I was in. I’ll try to remember.”

“Can you think of any identifying landmarks?” That would be one way to see how much truth was in Fay.

“Oh, let’s talk about this later,” Fay said, waving away her earlier comments. “It’s probably nothing.”

Almost certainly it was nothing. Still, what did she have to lose by looking? There were no other clues clamoring for attention. She just needed to know where to look. “Why don’t we meet at the Suomi for coffee in the morning?”

“Fine.” Fay stretched with ferretlike grace then tugged on her husband’s arm. “As long as I don’t have to eat anything.”

Fay normally ate like Samson. Bree lifted an eyebrow. “Dieting?”

“Hardly.” Fay gave a little laugh. “I’m going to look like a tub by the time the next seven months are up. Steve and I are going to have a baby!”

Bree didn’t miss the triumphant smile Fay tossed at Hilary. Hilary’s face froze for several long moments, then she managed a brittle smile that didn’t include her eyes.

“Congratulations. When is the . . . the baby due?” Hilary asked.

Bree heard the pain underneath the lighthearted voice, though she didn’t understand it. Did Hilary still really care for Steve? Poor Mason. Her gaze lingered on the sheriff’s face, but he seemed unperturbed.

“Not until May. I’m just barely knocked up.” Fay’s tinkling laugh came again.

“How . . . how wonderful,” Hilary managed. “You must excuse me.”

Bree watched her rush away then excused herself and followed her to the rest room.

The ladies’ room was a luxurious space with marble floors and counters, gold-plated fixtures, and mauve wallpaper in a subtle acanthus pattern. Hilary stood at a counter in front of the mirror, her eyes too bright in her white face.

“I couldn’t stay another minute,” Hilary said. Her chest heaved in small pants. Her fingers darted into the picture-perfect coiffure of curls piled atop her head.

“What’s wrong, Hilary?” Bree went to her and touched her shoulder.

“Why, nothing, of course. What could be wrong? My reelection is a shoo-in, Mason’s job is going well, and he’ll certainly be reelected too.” She stopped, and chagrin spread over her face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But really, I need to count my blessings.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Fay’s announcement? Did something happen today? You can tell me.” Bree’s unease grew. Whatever ailed her sister-in-law, it was something major.

Hilary’s lips twisted, and she began to tremble. She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the marble counter with both hands.

“I’m never going to have a baby, Bree.” She sobbed. “You can’t imagine the money we’ve poured into the fertility clinic in Marquette the past weeks as they’ve run all those tests. But today another disappointment. I was sure I was pregnant,” she whispered. “I was nearly two weeks late, my stomach was bloated, nausea—all the symptoms. I’d hoped to announce it tonight. I finally got up the courage to buy a pregnancy test. It was negative. Then the doctor called with all my test results, and . . . and . . .” Hilary leaned against the wall for support. “He says Mason has a low sperm count. We may never have a
baby. Now Fay flaunts her pregnancy in front of me like a war trophy. I could have had Steve, you know. He was mine before she moved to town. I hate her; I hate her! That baby should have been mine.”

“You don’t hate her. Come sit down.” Bree embraced Hilary and led her to a wingback chair positioned against the wall. “Sit here. I’ll get you some water.” The marble counter held crystal glasses with cardboard covers in a neat pile on a mirrored tray. Bree’s hand shook as she held a glass under the faucet and filled it with water.

Hilary took the glass Bree offered and gulped it down. “I haven’t told Mason yet. I can’t bear to disappoint him again; he’ll blame himself. We intended to have at least four, you know. And here we are ten years later with just the two of us rattling around in that great mausoleum that was built for a family.”

“What about adoption?” Bree said tentatively. She’d thought of adopting a child herself. None could ever replace Davy, but maybe another child, one who needed a home as desperately as she needed a reason for living, would fill the empty void in her heart.

Hilary shook her head. “I want a child of my own, a baby I carry in my body.”

“I see.” Words of advice rose in her throat and died there like a cake gone flat in the oven. Rob’s family was all she had left, the only safe haven left to her. Hilary’s rage could rise like Vesuvius, and Bree didn’t want to be caught in the lava flow. Not now.

As Bree predicted, anger quickly replaced the sorrow on Hilary’s face. She rose and grabbed a tissue from the counter. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand! Everyone would know it wasn’t my baby. I don’t want their pity! Oh, why am I even talking to you about it? You never say anything that matters. I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately.”

Bree couldn’t explain it to her sister-in-law any more than she could explain it to herself. Hilary brushed past Bree and began to repair the damage to her makeup. Dabbing at her face, she tested a smile,
then her face crumpled again. She dabbed at the tears until she finally succeeded in putting on a serene face.

“It will be all I can do to even speak to that cat Fay. I hate her!” She swept out the door without looking back.

Bree followed at a distance. Hilary melted into the festive crowd with a laugh that seemed to fool her friends but pierced Bree with dregs of sorrow as bitter as old tea. Hilary was right. Since Rob and Davy had died, she’d lost hold of who she was, and she didn’t know how to find herself again.

“Bree,
kulta,
I have looked everywhere for you.”

The soft sound of her mother-in-law’s voice was enough to ease Bree’s tension. Anu Nicholls always knew what to do. Bree turned to greet her with a smile. “How lovely you look!” Bree told her.

Dressed in a creamy gown overlaid with exquisite Finnish lace, Anu Nicholls wore her fair hair high on her head in a coronet of braids. Though nearly sixty, Anu boasted shining hair that held no trace of gray, and her face was as unlined as Bree’s. From the moment Bree had married Rob and became a Nicholls, Anu had claimed her as one of her own, though the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the family.

As Anu embraced Bree, her mother-in-law’s subtle perfume slipped over Bree like a caress.

“So
kumoon
you look. Slim and so beautiful.” Anu linked a graceful arm through Bree’s and strolled toward the pastry table. “Come with me. You know how wonderful Hilary’s thimbleberry tarts are. Even when I know my hips will pay, never can I resist.”