Wandering Heart (9781101561362) (14 page)

Daisy looked over the flyer. “No trouble at all.”

Audrey gave the rope leash a tug, and the dog rose and followed her. “Thanks, Daisy. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Come again soon, dear. Come for tea. You can bring your dog inside. I won’t mind,” she added.

Audrey just smiled. Daisy was confused.
She’s not my dog. That’s the whole point
. But she didn’t bother to correct her.

Next, Audrey stopped in at the emergency clinic, where she volunteered a few hours a week. Again, she left the dog outside. It was busy, with a few patients waiting. She noticed that Daniel was on call, but he only had time to wave from an examining room.

She hung up the flyer and walked to her truck with the dog trotting beside her. “Okay, what now, pal?” Audrey asked as the dog jumped into the truck. “Shall we head to Essex and the dog shelter? Or give the flyers a little time to work?”

The shelter did seem a harsh fate, and Audrey really hadn’t tried very long to find her owner. Just as she was trying to decide what to do, her cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Rob. He needed her help to move a heavy piece of equipment in the cheese-making room and wondered when she would be back.

Audrey texted that she would be home in a few minutes. As she stuck the phone back in her purse, she glanced at her four-legged companion. “Okay, you’re off the hook for now. No dog shelter today. You wait here while I go back in the store. I forgot dog food. Looks like you’ll be hanging around with us a few more days.”

“L
OOK
at these lobsters … Where did they come from? Liza, did you order lobster for tonight?”

Charlotte had wandered into the kitchen, looking for a glass of iced tea when Claire came through the back door carrying a large cooler.

She set it down on the floor near the refrigerator. Liza, who was stirring something on the stove, walked over to take a look. “I didn’t order lobster, not for tonight. We were making halibut with leeks and tomatoes. Don’t you remember?”

“I do. Then what is this?” Claire lifted the lid on the cooler, and Charlotte let out a little scream. “Ahh! They’re alive! I mean, I know you have to cook them live, but I didn’t realize they were so wild.”

Claire laughed at her. “We grow them lively around here. They don’t go down without a fight.”

“A few even still have some seaweed stuck on,” Liza observed.

Charlotte grabbed her courage and peered into the cooler again. A pile of dark green and black lobsters squirmed in a pile of ice, writhing and snapping their claws. One very brazen specimen hooked a claw to the edge of the cooler and began to lever itself out.

“Whoa there … back inside. You aren’t going anywhere except into a pot of boiling water.” Liza grabbed the lobster’s tail and it slid
back under the ice. Then she slammed the lid on the slithering creatures.

“They’re real beauties. A pound and a half or even two pounds each, I’d say,” Claire guessed. “Looks like at least a dozen. That should be enough for everyone left, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Liza agreed. “Scratch the halibut, we don’t want this bounty to go to waste.”

“Where do you think they came from, if you didn’t order them?” Claire asked, peering under the lid of a pot. She turned to Charlotte. “We were told that you like lobster by the powers that be,” Claire explained. “But I wasn’t planning on making that dish for this group. I would have needed a truckload.”

“It could have been a fan,” Liza suggested. “Maybe they read somewhere about your favorite foods.”

“Maybe. People do send me presents,” Charlotte said, though she had a feeling it was a new friend. It had to be Colin, she decided, thinking back to their conversation two nights earlier. These might even be lobsters he caught in his own traps today. If so, it was an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture. The only thing that could have made it even better was if Colin stopped by to share them. He had shown up uninvited the other night. Maybe he would return? She hoped so.

“So … how many people are here for dinner tonight?” she casually asked Liza. “The inn seems pretty empty.”

Charlotte knew that after the filming had wrapped up for the day, Brad headed back up to the rented mansion. He never liked to eat dinner with the staff. Mike and Judy had left at noon for Boston. They had a business meeting and would go straight to Newburyport tonight.

After her first night staying over, Charlotte had decided to remain at the inn. She liked her room and loved the atmosphere. She also liked having some space away from Brad and the other higher-ups on the film.

There had been some concern about leaving her here alone and the lack of conveniences. But she had finally persuaded them that she could focus better on the film if she stayed. The island was less accessible to the press, and the inn’s atmosphere helped get her into character. Finally, they gave up and let her have her way, though Meredith insisted on staying like a faithful shadow.

“Oh, we’re down to a handful tonight,” Liza explained. “All the crew members staying here decided to go to Spoon Harbor for a Friday night on the town. So it’s just us three and your assistant. We can easily fit at the table on the patio. This dinner is best enjoyed outdoors.”

So she didn’t expect Colin.

“Let me help you. Just tell me what to do,” Charlotte offered.

Liza looked surprised but nodded. “Maybe you can set the table later, when we’re ready.”

“She can chop these vegetables until then,” Claire called out. She pointed with a long wooden spoon to a chopping block on the table where a strainer of freshly washed vegetables and salad stood draining in a colander.

“There’s a knife on the table. Don’t cut yourself,” Claire warned her. “You’d better grab an apron. I bet that outfit cost a small fortune.”

Claire looked over at Charlotte’s casually chic halter top and swingy, summer skirt. It had cost a small fortune, by most standards, but her closets were full of such clothes. When she was a teenager, she loved fashion but hardly had any nice clothes. That all changed
when she started modeling. Now that she had more money than she could even count, shopping for new clothes was her greatest indulgence. It was something she could do in private, surfing the Web for new fashions and accessories. She knew she used it as a distraction, too.

“Do you ever cook, Charlotte?” Claire asked, breaking into her rambling thoughts.

“Once in a while … not that much, though I do know how to cook. Simple things,” she added.

“Simple dishes are often the best. In my book, anyway,” Claire said.

Charlotte agreed, though she ate at the finest restaurants and had sampled the most complex and exotic of dishes.

She took the apron Claire handed her, wrapped the strings around her narrow waist, then set to work on the vegetables. She fell into the rhythm easily. Growing up, she’d had to help out at home with the cooking, cleaning, and watching her younger siblings. Her mother worked hard at home but often seemed overwhelmed and depressed. Charlotte was always the one to step in and take over. She was no stranger to housework, though it had been a long time since she’d had to do any.

With so many helping hands in the kitchen, dinner was soon ready. Though Charlotte loved eating lobster, she’d never cooked it herself and got an informative lesson from Claire.

“I like to stun them before putting them in the pot. Like this.” Claire showed her how to strike the lobster at the back of the head. “I think it’s just more humane that way.”

Charlotte agreed. She was not a vegetarian and ate all kinds of meat. But it was hard to see a living thing dropped into boiling water.

The small group of women made for relaxing company, Charlotte thought. She had come to know both Liza and Claire a bit over the past few days. They were both interesting and intelligent. She was impressed by Liza’s decision to quit her safe but boring job in an advertising agency, and stay on the island to run the inn. And Claire was, well, unique. She was the only person Charlotte ever met who didn’t seem to be the least bit impressed by actors or the film crew. Charlotte had the sense that Claire would treat any guest with the same brisk but genuine consideration that she showed them.

Though she enjoyed the evening’s conversation, Charlotte had been secretly watching and waiting for Colin—right up until Claire served dessert, a lemon Bundt cake with homemade strawberry ice cream on the side.

Charlotte helped clean up and then sat with Liza and Claire on the front porch, enjoying a last cup of tea and the ocean breeze. Claire took out her knitting.

“That’s beautiful yarn.” Charlotte reached out and fingered the heather-brown strand. “What are you making?”

Claire was counting the stitches in the row but smiled before she answered. “It’s a shawl. For myself, for once. I plan to wear it on chilly nights about the house or even over my coat when it gets wicked cold outside. Do you knit, Charlotte?”

“I usually do when I’m shooting a movie. It makes the downtime on set go faster. But I forgot my knitting bag on this trip. I was in the middle of a sweater for my sister. I’m starting to miss my needles.”

“You should have said something. There’s a lovely knitting shop not far from here, in Cape Light. Tell the owner that I sent you. She’ll find everything you need.”

Claire wrote down the name and address of the store. Charlotte decided to go into town tomorrow after they finished filming. She
loved to read, but was running out of books and needed some other diversion.

Besides thinking about Colin.

She had given up on seeing him tonight somewhere around the homemade ice cream. She was disappointed, but maybe it was for the best. After all, how far could their relationship go? Not very, Charlotte reasoned. It was hard for her to have a relationship with someone outside the entertainment business, even if the man was at the same economic level. Which Colin definitely was not. Was that a cold way of looking at it? Yes, but it was also realistic. Besides, she was on the West Coast a good part of the time or traveling for her work. And Colin was here. Fishing.

If things ever got serious between them, she could certainly afford to fly him out to California to see her. But she wondered how he would feel about that. Was he the type of man who felt uncomfortable with a woman who was far wealthier? She knew it was old-fashioned of her, but the truth was, that most of the men she’d met who did enjoy that arrangement were not worth getting involved with.

There were so many obstacles to anything long term between them. Maybe Colin had come to that conclusion, too, Charlotte thought. They could never have anything more than a romantic fling during the filming here. If the press ever found out, they would have a field day. Charlotte cringed, imagining the headlines of the trashy, grocery-store tabloids or even worse, the gossip columns on the Internet—how they would slander her and make a mockery of Colin.

Colin was a great guy. One in a million, she had no doubt. But she never wanted to hurt him, or turn him into prey for the paparazzi. That would be no way to repay the man who had saved her life.

“A
UDREY
, did you see my other boot? I left it right here by the door when I came in last night.”

Audrey cringed at her husband’s question. She didn’t know where the boot was, but had a good idea who did.

Audrey was at the kitchen table, sorting out labels for the cheese packages that she had just printed out from her laptop. Saturday was usually a busy day at the shop, and she wanted to be prepared with fully stocked shelves. The dog lay under the table, at her feet.

“Oh, here it is. I found it under the couch.”

Rob hobbled back from the living room, one boot on and the other in his hand. Audrey glanced over at it quickly. Not too much damage, though the cowhide laces were chewed to bits.

“Look at this. Look what that dog did.”

Audrey sighed and took the boot. “Thank heaven she didn’t chew the leather. I have some new laces in the sewing box. I think they’ll be long enough.”

“Great. But you promised to take that dog to the shelter in Essex. Remember?”

“I know. But I’ve been so busy. Every time I plan to go, something comes up.” That much was true.

He stared at her a moment then walked into the pantry to look for the sewing kit. “Do you want me to bring her in?” he asked quietly.

“I can do it. You have enough to do today.” There was a farmer’s market at the Cape Light village green every Saturday morning, from Memorial Day to November. They had a spot there to sell their products. Rob usually took care of it while she stayed at the shop. He was getting a late start and had to get a move on.

Rob reappeared with the new laces. He sat at the table, taking out his frustration with the dog on his boot.

Her husband was so sweet. It was hard for him to get mad at anything. He liked the dog, too, though he would never admit it. She had caught him petting her more than once, when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“I wonder if the shelter is open on Saturday.”

“Why wouldn’t they be? A lot of people work during the week. That’s the only day they could look for a pet.”

“Right.” Audrey nodded, counting out the labels to make sure she had enough of each type—plain, herb-coated, and roasted garlic. The last one was a new flavor that was catching on.

“The shop will be busy. I’ll have to close early.”

“I’ll be back by three. That should give you plenty of time.”

She finally looked up at him but didn’t say anything.

“Audrey, if you want to keep her, we’ll keep her. But we never talked about it. You don’t even like dogs.”

“I know.” She felt the dog’s head come to rest on her bare foot.
Then the dog sighed. Oh, brother, this dog was too much. Rob didn’t know the half of it.

“I just wish someone had answered the flyers. I only put them up yesterday. We could give it a little more time?”

Rob tied his other boot and stood up. “Some dogs have a little microchip implanted that will locate their owners. Did you know that?” Audrey had never heard of that technology and shook her head. “If you bring her to the shelter, they can scan her and maybe find her owner that way.”