Read Rose Harbor in Bloom Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

Rose Harbor in Bloom (18 page)

BOOK: Rose Harbor in Bloom
11.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

When they broke apart, Annie noticed that Oliver was breathing as hard as she was, as if they’d been involved in a heated race. He held her for several moments and then kissed the top of her head.

Together they returned to the inn, but neither spoke again. They climbed the stairs and went to their separate rooms with little more than a murmured, “Good night.”

Not until she was getting ready for bed sometime later did she remember something he’d said:
If nothing else comes of this weekend …

Just exactly what did Oliver intend to happen this weekend?

Chapter 16

I knew Saturday would be a big day for Kent and Julie Shivers, as their family and friends gathered for the celebration of their fiftieth wedding anniversary. I wondered if the couple could pull it off, as they seemed to be constantly at odds.

By eight o’clock I had breakfast ready. The scent of freshly baked scones drifting through the house must have roused my guests. Annie appeared first, slowly making her way down the stairs as if she’d had trouble sleeping. Seeing how she’d been primarily responsible for all the arrangements, I imagined she had spent the night mentally going over every detail one last time. I was about to comment and then decided against it. In addition to the celebration, she must be worried about her grandparents.

“Good morning,” I greeted her, and automatically lifted the
coffeepot. From the tired look in Annie’s eyes, I figured she would need a caffeine boost.

“Morning.” She reached for a mug, and I poured her coffee.

No sooner had I finished when Oliver trotted down the stairs. In contrast, he looked chipper and bright, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He reached for a mug, and I filled his as well. I couldn’t help but notice how Annie avoided eye contact with him. In fact, she seemed to go out of her way not to look in his direction at all.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said to Annie, and kissed her cheek.

I watched as color automatically flooded Annie’s face. She glared at him, and seeing how much the kiss had flustered her, Oliver laughed.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Oliver said, and after setting his mug down on the dining room table, he stretched his arms high above his head. “A very special day.”

The two were soon joined by Kent and Julie. I suspected my other guests who were part of this family gathering would be arriving at the inn soon. The inn was booked solid for Saturday night. Most everyone was involved in one way or another with helping the Shivers celebrate their anniversary—and then, of course, there was Mary Smith.

I’d seen her only briefly and worried about her, as she spent the majority of her time in her room. Although, as I recalled, she’d mentioned earlier that she would be going into Seattle to spend the day with a friend. I hoped the outing wouldn’t be too much for her physically.

“I have scones hot from the oven.”

“Scones,” Kent echoed, and rubbed his palms together. “I love warm scones.”

“Since when?” Julie insisted.

Kent scowled back at her. “Since forever.”

“You might have told me.”

“Why? So you can talk about my dangerous cholesterol levels?”

“Someone needs to watch what you eat, because you seem incapable of doing it yourself. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be on twenty medications a day.”

Kent looked over at Annie and shook his head. “Your grandmother is impossible.”

“Well, so are you,” Julie flared, and then immediately let loose with three sneezes in rapid succession. Grabbing a tissue, she held it to her nose. “Your grandfather insisted on sleeping with the window open. I was cold the entire night. I might come down with pneumonia and die, but that’s probably what he wants.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks.”

“I about froze to death.”

“I don’t know how, when you closed that window every chance you got.”

“That’s because you kept opening it,” Julie complained.

Kent ignored her, and as if to defy her, he reached for a warm scone and slathered it with both butter and strawberry jam and then made a display of taking a huge bite.

“You’re acting like a two-year-old,” Julie said, and then, looking to Annie and Oliver, she added, “I hope you’ll overlook your grandfather’s little temper tantrum.”

Fearing that their exchange might escalate into a full-blown argument as it had the day before, I hurriedly asked, “Anyone for orange juice?”

Both Annie and Oliver quickly responded. It seemed they shared my fears.

The heated exchange between Kent and Julie the night before had been enough for me. Playing the role of referee didn’t suit me in the least.

Julie looked to her granddaughter. “Do you need my help with anything today?” she asked.

Before Annie could respond, Oliver answered, “That’s why I’m here. Annie can count on me to be her go-to person.”

At first Annie looked a bit startled, but after a short pause, she agreed. “This is a day for you and Grandpa to enjoy,” their granddaughter assured them. “Everything is ready, and I know how much family and friends are looking forward to seeing you.”

“Your grandmother bought a new outfit for this shindig,” Kent said, frowning at his wife. “Cost more than her wedding dress.”

“My wedding dress, if you recall, was one I purchased that morning at the J. C. Penney store in downtown Bremerton. I didn’t even have a real wedding dress, because you were in such an all-fired hurry to get married.”

“As I recall, there was a reason for the big rush. I was being shipped out, and you thought you could be pregnant.”

Clearly mortified, Julie gasped.

Seeing that the morning was rapidly deteriorating, I returned to the kitchen, grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, and quickly carried it into the dining room.

“Grandpa,” Annie said, “you’re not going to mention that at the party, are you?”

“He’ll do it just to embarrass me in front of our entire family.”

Kent narrowed his eyes. “What’d you say?”

“I’ll talk to him later, Grandma,” Annie promised. “Don’t you worry; he won’t say anything to embarrass you.”

“If he does, I swear I will just die.”

“Don’t worry,” Annie said again, and patted Julie’s hand.

“Would you two stop mumbling?” Kent asked.

I returned to the kitchen and reached for the sausage patties, the bacon, and the cheesy egg dish that my guests seemed to comment on every time I served it. I brought the platter in from the kitchen and set it in the middle of the table, but unfortunately no one seemed to be the least bit interested in enjoying the meal I had so
carefully prepared. Oh, dear, I did hope this day didn’t turn out to be a disaster for Annie and her family.

With several guests arriving and checking in, my morning was sure to be busy.

Annie and Oliver were the first ones to leave the table. Annie announced she had some last-minute details to see to, and Oliver followed her up the stairs, volunteering to help.

“You can help me set up the hall for the reception,” I heard Annie tell him.

“Happy to do it.”

I saw Julie’s gaze follow them. She caught me watching her. “I would so love it if those two became an item.”

“Julie, stay out of it,” Kent insisted. “What happens between them is none of your affair.”

“I’ll do what I darn well please,” Annie’s grandmother returned, glaring at her husband of fifty years.

Kent snorted and shook his head. “You will, anyway. You’re a willful, stubborn woman.”

“Willful and stubborn? Well, it takes one to know one.”

The two sounded like children on a playground, tossing out insults at each other.

“Forget it. I can’t even talk to you anymore,” Julie muttered. “I don’t even know why I try.”

“What’d you say?” Kent demanded.

Sighing with frustration, Julie walked away. A moment later, Kent followed her back to their room.

By nine, the breakfast room was nearly deserted when Mary came down, taking the steps slowly. Her color was good, and she smiled when I wished her a good morning.

“Thank you. You, too.”

She automatically went into the dining room and pulled out a chair. After she took her place at the table, I brought her a cup of tea, knowing she preferred that over coffee.

“Thank you,” Mary said simply.

“Can I tempt you with a freshly baked scone? They’re still warm from the oven.”

“Yes, that would be great.”

“Eggs, bacon, sausage?”

Mary shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t have much of an appetite these days. A scone and orange juice will do me nicely.” Knowing that she preferred her own company, I headed back into the kitchen and started in on the dishes and putting away the leftovers. Rover remained curled up in his bed while he watched my every move. Thinking about the leftovers, I was tempted to contact Mark. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. He could be such a grouch, I wasn’t sure the effort would be appreciated.

The phone rang, and grabbing a dish towel, I wiped my hands dry as I headed into the office.

“Rose Harbor Inn,” I answered.

“Jo Marie, it’s Dennis Milford.”

My knees nearly went out from under me. I’d been waiting to hear from the lieutenant colonel ever since our last conversation. A huge lump instantly formed in my throat.

“I promised to get back to you as soon as I had any information.”

“Yes.” I could barely squeeze out a reply.

“The remains have been extracted from the helicopter crash site.”

My grip on the phone was so tight that I lost feeling in my fingers. Instantly, my head filled with a dozen questions. Try as I might, I couldn’t force a single one past the constriction in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, tensing. Any hope I had that my husband had managed to survive the crash was about to be dashed against the sharp, rock-hard edges of reality. I braced myself for what was to come next.

“And?” I prodded.

The lieutenant colonel hesitated. “I want to assure you that the crash site hasn’t been disturbed by enemy combatants.”

“Oh.” I was grateful for the chair close by, and I sank into the seat, as my knees would no longer support me.

“All the remains are being retrieved.”

That had been his promise to me. Somehow, some way, I would have the opportunity to bury my husband. No man would be left behind. That had been Dennis Milford’s promise to me and the army’s promise to Paul when he became a Ranger.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He hesitated.

I’d been right. There was more, something he wasn’t telling me. I could sense it. Feel it in every pore of my being. “What else?” I managed the question with some difficulty.

“I hesitate to tell you this, Jo Marie.”

“Please, whatever it is, I need to know.” My ear hurt from the pressure of the phone against it.

“The copter went down with six men.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Only the remains of five bodies were retrieved.”

My eyes flared open. “You mean …”

“It doesn’t mean anything. There’s every possibility that the last victim was thrown from the helicopter or carried away by animals. I don’t want you to pin your hopes on Paul being alive. He isn’t. Accept that.”

“Do you know whose body is missing?”

“Not yet. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No, no, I’m glad you did.” My pulse was going wild. All along I’d had a feeling, call it intuition, call it whatever you want, but this sensation had been with me ever since I’d received word of the helicopter crash. I’d felt that somehow, some way, Paul would have found a means to survive and had been sending me mental notes telling me to go on with my life until he returned.

Perhaps it was because our love was so new and we’d found each other when we least expected to fall in love … I’d always felt I would have sensed it if Paul died. Part of me was convinced that in the moment of his death Paul would have managed to come to me and I would know for certain that he was truly gone. In some ways he had come, had surrounded me with his love. This was all so confusing. The problem, I realized, was that I didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t accept that my husband was actually dead. To be hit with news like this changed everything.

In the weeks that followed the first shocking report of the helicopter crash, I’d been overwhelmed with such horrific grief that I didn’t sleep; I didn’t eat. At night I laid awake, waiting for Paul to come to me, to appear in my dreams. He didn’t … not right away.

Not until I’d moved to Cedar Cove did I feel his presence. It was the first night I’d slept at the inn. I remembered that life-altering moment as clearly as I did the night it first happened. I’d been sitting by the alcove, half asleep, with the fire in the stone fireplace flickering gently. It’d been a starlit night early in January and all of a sudden Paul was there, as real as anything I’ve ever known. I was awake enough to know what was taking place. I sensed his presence as strongly as if he’d claimed the seat next to mine.

I remembered I’d been afraid to open my eyes for fear he would vanish, and I couldn’t bear that. I yearned to hold on to this moment for as long as possible. That was the night he’d told me I would heal at this inn and that all who came to stay there would heal, too.

“Jo Marie.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Paul is gone.”

“Yes,” I whispered again, but I felt my heart resist. I didn’t want to believe it, nor did I want to accept it as truth.

Chapter 17

After Mary finished breakfast, she returned to her room to get ready to meet George in Seattle. He’d wanted her to spend the day with him, and she’d agreed, although even now, she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. He’d wanted to return to Cedar Cove and get her himself, but she’d refused. Instead, she would take a cab to the ferry terminal in Bremerton and ride over to Seattle on the Washington State ferry. For the entire time Mary had lived in Seattle she’d never ridden the ferry, and that was a downright shame. The state was said to have the largest ferry system in the world, and considering island nations, such as the Philippines, that was impressive.

Until recently, until she’d been diagnosed with cancer, Mary had been too busy, too involved in her career for such frivolous
activities. She was far too impatient to sit in a line and wait for her chance to drive onto a ferry. Far too impatient for many things, including motherhood. This might very well be the only opportunity she would ever have to ride a ferry to Seattle, and she wasn’t about to be cheated out of it because George, bless his dear heart, feared that the ride might possibly tire her out or that she’d catch a chill.

BOOK: Rose Harbor in Bloom
11.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Devil-Devil by G.W. Kent
The Templar Throne by Christopher, Paul
Casting Shadows by Sophie McKenzie
El gran reloj by Kenneth Fearing
Turn Around Bright Eyes by Rob Sheffield
Tanner's Scheme by Leigh, Lora