The Inn at Rose Harbor (6 page)

Abby had to sleep. It’d been days, no, weeks since she’d had a full night of uninterrupted rest. Her eyes burned and still her mind refused to stop spinning. Dreading her return to Cedar Cove, she’d
fretted nonstop over her brother’s upcoming wedding. She would give anything to have found an excuse to stay away. But how could she? This was her brother. Her entire family was planning to attend the wedding. Aunts and uncles … cousins, too, many of whom she hadn’t seen in years.

Why, oh why, had Roger fallen in love with a woman from Cedar Cove? Abby had yet to meet her future sister-in-law, although she’d spoken to Victoria a couple of times on the phone. She seemed like a perfectly fine young woman. A gentle, kind person … and if she knew about the tragedy that hung like a dark cloud over Abby’s life, Victoria had thankfully never mentioned it.

Although they were little more than strangers, her future sister-in-law had asked her to participate in the wedding, which Abby had agreed to do, albeit reluctantly. She would serve the wedding cake.

The only flaw that Abby could find in Roger’s bride was the fact that she had chosen to be married in the last place on earth Abby ever wanted to see again.

She hadn’t been in town twenty-four hours and already the temptation to pack her bags and return to Florida was stronger than ever. The fact that she’d been forced to arrive an entire day early complicated everything. Somehow, in her reluctance and nervousness, she’d made a mistake when booking her reservation. For her arrival date, she’d meant to put in Friday, arriving in time for the rehearsal and dinner. The wedding was early Saturday evening, and then, of course, the reception would follow. She’d purposely not chosen the motel her family had booked, prefering to remain away from the hubbub of activity. Her return was booked for the earliest flight out Sunday morning. She planned to be in and out of town as quickly as possible.

Here and gone.

No such luck.

By the time she realized that she’d booked her arrival on Thursday
rather than Friday it was too late and too expensive to change her flight dates. All the seats were gone for the Friday flight. Although she hated the thought of it, arriving on Thursday made more sense. Abby had gritted her teeth and flown in early. Just what she wanted least—an extra twenty-four hours in Cedar Cove.

She hadn’t told her brother or her parents about her mistake. It was probably better this way, in case she did run into anyone she knew from back then … before Abby had caused the death of her best friend and watched as the town of Cedar Cove sat in judgment of her.

For more than ten years, Abby had managed to avoid returning to her hometown. Eventually even her parents had found it necessary to move away. Oh, they’d used a convenient excuse, careful not to lay blame at her feet. But Abby knew the truth even if they were too generous to admit to it. No one needed to spell it out for her. Her parents hadn’t been able to face their friends, or the Whites … especially the Whites.

Her father claimed he’d accepted early retirement from the shipyard, the largest employer in Kitsap County, and shortly afterward her parents had settled in Arizona. Her brother was already living in Seattle by the time of the accident, a corporate executive at Seattle Best Coffee. Of all the women he’d dated over the years, why oh why couldn’t he have fallen in love with a woman from Seattle or Alaska … or Timbuktu? Anyplace other than Cedar Cove.

Well, there was no help for it. Abby was here now, like it or not. Here and miserable and afraid, so very afraid. A counselor she’d talked to years ago had suggested she confront her fears. Good advice, she supposed, as those fears were currently front and center. She’d run away from them for so long and now the awful memories were nipping at her heels, keeping her awake with the nightmare she’d spent the last fifteen years trying to forget.

It’d all started out so innocent, so fun. Abby and Angela had been best friends all the way through high school; Abby’s mom had nicknamed them “The A Team.” BFFs for sure. Angela was the best friend Abby had ever had. They were both on cheer squad, both in soccer, both in drama classes, and were practically inseparable all through high school. It was more than being best friends though. Angela had been the one person in the world Abby felt free to share anything and everything with, knowing she’d never be judged. They could talk for hours, and often did. And oh how they could laugh.

Following graduation, Abby had headed for the University of Washington in Seattle while Angela attended Washington State University in Pullman, the arch-rival school and her mother’s alma mater.

Even though they were an entire state apart, they’d communicated daily, and both of them had looked forward to Christmas break. Abby had saved a hundred things to tell her best friend, but mostly she wanted to update Angela on her relationship with Steve, her brother’s roommate, whom she’d recently started dating. It’d only been a couple of months, but Abby was sure this was love, she was absolutely convinced of it. Real love. In retrospect, Abby realized she had known nothing about love … and even less about loss.

Over the years a few friends from Cedar Cove had attempted to stay in touch, but Abby hadn’t responded to their letters or returned their Christmas cards. She hadn’t kept in touch with Patty, Marie, Suzie, or her other good friends since she’d moved away.

How would she ever be able to celebrate Christmas again? Abby did her best to ignore the holiday completely. It was the worst time of the year for her and it never seemed to get better.

For a time she had made an effort to keep in touch with Angela’s family, but they wanted no reminders of what had happened to
their daughter. The truth was, they wanted nothing to do with her ever again. Although she desperately needed to hear from them, her letters were returned unopened.

When Abby could stand it no longer she asked her mother about the Whites, worrying as she did about them, but Linda Kincaid sidestepped her questions. When pressured, her mother confessed that matters had been difficult between the two families. Strained.

Not more than six months later, Abby’s father announced that he’d taken early retirement and the family home was on the real estate market. Abby had long suspected that her father’s retirement and the sudden desire to move had been prompted by what had happened that fateful December night. Both denied it, but Abby feared her parents were looking to protect her from the truth.

Either way, it no longer mattered. With her parents in Arizona, Abby had heaved a giant sigh of relief. She’d been grateful to put Cedar Cove behind her. Her parents’ retirement plans were the perfect excuse to put that part of her life behind her and strive to look forward.

Only Abby had never quite succeeded in forgetting. Really, how could she forget Angela? Or shove her to the back of her mind as if her life had been of no importance? She’d been the one driving. She was the one responsible. The blame was squarely on her shoulders. What it took her years to realize was that she’d lost far more than her best friend that night. Right along with everything else, Abby had lost her soul.

The carefree happy teenager she’d once been had died that night right alongside her best friend. Her entire life had changed afterward—even her personality. Before the accident she’d been gregarious, outgoing, and fun-loving. These days she was much more subdued, intense, and quiet. She dated, but not much. It seemed grossly wrong that she should continue on with a happy
life while Angela was dead. And from everything she’d learned about the White family, they’d never recovered from the loss of their only daughter.

Eventually Abby had graduated from college and left Washington State, but she was never the same. She had few friends; she avoided getting close to anyone, for it always felt like a betrayal of Angela. She lived in regret, or so her counselor had once told her. Nothing she did, good or otherwise, would ever be enough to wash away the burden of guilt she carried.

Through the years, the fact that she was responsible for killing her best friend had become part and parcel of who she was, who she was destined to always be.

After obtaining her degree, Abby had accepted a job in management at the QVC fulfillment center in Port St. Lucie, Florida. Florida was just about as far away from Cedar Cove as she could get, both physically and otherwise. Living in a place of ninety-degree winter days, humidity, and alligators made it almost possible to believe that a small wooded town on a cove in the Pacific Northwest was just a dream.

With her parents living elsewhere and her only brother in Seattle, there’d never been a reason to revisit her childhood home. Until now.

The family was excited for Roger. He’d been in and out of relationships for years before he met Victoria. Their mother had been ecstatic with the news when Roger and Victoria announced their engagement. This was Linda and Tom’s best shot at being grandparents.

Everyone, Abby included, accepted that she would probably never marry. In many ways she felt like her entire life had been placed on hold following the accident. She’d grown accustomed to living in this emotional bubble.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she glanced at the bedside
clock radio for the tenth time. It was after six now and still pitch dark. She’d slept, if she could even call it sleeping, for a grand total of three hours.

Turning on the lamp by the bed, Abby reached for a book she’d brought with her. Immersing herself in a good story would occupy her for a while, keep her mind busy until it was time to go downstairs and join Jo Marie and the other guest for breakfast.

Later she would venture into town to find the pharmacy Jo Marie had mentioned, and hope she didn’t run into anyone she knew in the process. Then, this afternoon, she would hook up with her parents and her brother for Roger and Victoria’s wedding rehearsal.

Abby was genuinely happy for her brother and resolved to put on a smile for his sake.

Josh didn’t sleep well. Little wonder—the dreadful scene with Richard played continuously in his mind, like a movie that refused to be shut off. Despite his best efforts the confrontation had gone even worse than he’d imagined it would. If anything, Richard seemed to dislike him even more intensely. It made sense. Richard had every reason to resent Josh. He was alive but the favored son—the son he’d fathered—was dead.

Breakfast was on the table when Josh came down the stairs. Jo Marie greeted him with a bright, “Good morning.” Her natural cheerfulness caught him off guard. Just seeing her helped lighten his mood. Although she’d said he was her first guest since taking over the B&B, she was a natural. As far as he could tell she was the
perfect hostess, seeing to his care, allowing him to set the parameters of how much attention he wanted.

Josh returned her greeting, then sat down at the table in the formal dining room. The room was bathed in sunlight, as if in reflection of Jo Marie’s enthusiasm for the new day, and a welcome change from the gloom of the day before. His mother had been a morning person, Josh remembered. She’d sometimes woken him for school by singing to him. He grinned at the memory. Her chipper mood had irritated him at the time. Grumbling, he’d bury his head beneath his pillow.

Richard had been a different person back then. He’d always been in a rush to get out the door in the mornings and he often ate his breakfast standing up, gulping down one last sip of coffee before heading out the back door. No matter how much of a hurry Richard had been in, he’d always taken the time to kiss Teresa good-bye. Sometimes they kissed with such enthusiasm that Josh had been forced to look away. His stepfather had been a happier man back then.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Josh glanced over his shoulder. Jo Marie had mentioned another guest would be joining them. The woman looked about the same way as he felt. She kept her gaze lowered and smiled faintly when Jo Marie called out her cheery morning greeting.

The other woman didn’t seem to notice him until she sat down at the table. Surprise registered on her face when she looked up.

“Morning,” he said. While he didn’t really feel like making conversation he didn’t want to be rude.

“Morning,” she replied with what seemed to be a certain reluctance.

“Josh Weaver, meet Abby Kincaid,” Jo Marie said as she returned to the dining room, carrying a pitcher of orange juice.

Josh noticed that his coffee mug was already full. The casserole rested in the middle of the table along with a plate of crisp bacon,
a stack of buttered toast with an array of jellies and jams, and home-baked muffins.

“Orange juice?” Jo Marie asked him.

“Please.”

“None for me, thank you,” Abby said.

Josh discovered he was ravenous. He hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, although he’d enjoyed a late lunch with Michelle. They’d stayed at the Pancake Palace for nearly three hours, talking about everything under the sun, other than Richard. Pride wouldn’t allow him to show how upset his stepfather had made him.

After he’d dropped Michelle off at her parents’ house, Josh had driven around for another couple of hours, familiarizing himself with the town and the outlying areas around it once again. Cedar Cove was the only real home he’d ever known, and it felt strange to be back.

Michelle hadn’t exaggerated the situation with Richard. Josh didn’t doubt that his stepfather was dying and, odd as it seemed, he felt a twinge of loss. The end of an era, even if not a happy one. The end of his chance to make things, if not right, then different than they had been.

Perhaps his sadness was related to the fact that he would be all alone in the world once Richard died. And yet, that didn’t make sense, because basically he already was alone. The two hadn’t spoken in years.

Still, there it was, this feeling that he was on the verge of losing something important. He barely remembered his biological father, an alcoholic who’d abandoned him and his mother when Josh was five. His mother had died thirteen years later and then his stepbrother.

Josh noticed that he’d been staring sightlessly out the dining room window and ignoring everyone else. He spooned a large serving of the egg dish Jo Marie had brought into the room and ate it with gusto.