Wandering Heart (9781101561362) (24 page)

Audrey nearly had heart failure. Two large muddy paw prints stood out on his shirtfront, as if they’d been stenciled there.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She ran toward him, not knowing what to do. “Let me clean it for you, please. No, let us buy you a new one. What kind is it? I’ll find it on the Internet. I’ll order it right away. It could be here tomorrow,” she promised.

He touched her arm and took a deep breath. “That’s all right. The shirt is custom made in London, and I have stacks of them. Don’t trouble yourself. I think the photo was worth it. Please send a copy to my website. I’ll put it up there in my gallery.”

He really was such a nice man. Audrey couldn’t get over it. “That’s very kind of you. I’m so sorry about Millie. I should have realized.”

“That’s all right. I’m used to women losing control around me.”

Audrey laughed along with the joke, though it did sound a bit vain.

A long, sleek black car glided up the drive as soundlessly as a shark. A driver jumped out and opened the door for Nick, who put the gift basket in first, then turned to Audrey and Rob. “So long, folks, this was great.”

“The pleasure was all ours, honestly.”

Nick sent one more dazzling smile in their direction then shut the car door. The car drove off, disappearing down the road.

Rob put his arm around Audrey’s shoulder. “So, what did you think of your hero, Nick Dempsey, up close and personal? Are you going to run off to Hollywood?”

“He is handsome, even better in person than in the movies,”
Audrey admitted. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about, honey.”

“Whew, that’s a relief. He did seem very interested in the cheese-making business. Think he might give up the glamour and glitter for a goat farm?”

“He might,” Audrey said. “But he’ll have to find another herd and another girl. I’m spoken for.”

“That’s right. You belong to me and the goats … and Millie.”

“Yes, Millie, too.” They turned to watch the dog chase a butterfly across the meadow, galloping after the beautiful creature that flew just out of reach.

“I felt bad when Millie ruined Nick’s shirt. But honestly, what type of person wears a fancy white shirt like that, custom made in London no less, to visit a farm?” Audrey rolled her eyes.

Rob laughed. “A real movie star, that’s who.”

That’s who had come to visit them. Audrey still couldn’t quite believe it. Well, it had certainly taken her mind off her troubles for a while and given her a lift.

If only a movie star could drop by every day.

L
IZA
and Claire had a little break on Saturday afternoon before they needed to start dinner. They sat on the porch together, enjoying the late-afternoon sunshine and the beautiful view. They had both been up at six that morning and had spent a full day cleaning and cooking. It would soon be time to get back into the kitchen.

“I’m glad that we have a small group tonight for dinner,” Liza said. “Though I doubt anyone will get a better meal in Newburyport or Spoon Harbor than they will here,” she quickly added.

Claire took the compliment with her usual equanimity. She stopped knitting for a moment and glanced up at Liza with a brief smile. “Well, you never know. Some of them might go into town and still come back hungry. I’ll put some leftovers aside, just in case.”

“Good idea. Look, they must be done filming for the day. Here comes someone back from the set,” Liza said, staring out at the drive.

Claire looked up, too, and they both watched a shiny black car
pull up to the inn. Liza knew by now that only the stars and the studio executives were granted this type of transportation, and she waited to see who got out. It was Charlotte. Liza smiled and waved in greeting, but the actress didn’t seem to notice. Still wearing her stage makeup, elaborate hairdo, and costume, she swept out of the car and up the front steps.

“Hello, Charlotte,” Claire greeted her evenly. “How was your day?”

Charlotte suddenly stopped at the front door and turned toward them. Liza realized she hadn’t noticed them sitting there, she was so deep in thought—or so upset about something.

“It was long and hard, but we got a lot done.” She smiled at them, but Liza could tell it was a struggle. Charlotte looked exhausted and overwhelmed.

Claire put her knitting aside, walked over to the young woman, and gently touched her arm. “Would you like to sit with us a minute? I can bring you some iced tea or lemonade.”

Charlotte shook her head. Her long, dangling earrings sparkled in the late-afternoon light. “Thanks, Claire. I’m just dying for a nice long shower. I have to get out of these clothes before I melt.” She pulled at her outfit, a creamy satin off-the-shoulder evening gown and long satin gloves.

There didn’t seem to be enough fabric on the gown to make a person feel that warm, Liza thought as Charlotte gave them another wan smile and headed into the inn.

Meredith had also returned and had been talking to the driver, going over something in her black leather planner. Now she came up to the porch and greeted Liza and Claire quickly. “I’m going up to see if Charlotte needs anything. Then I’m going out to meet some people in the crew, so I won’t be staying tonight for dinner.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” Liza said. “How about Charlotte—is she going out, too?”

“No. She’s staying in. I feel a little guilty leaving her,” Meredith admitted. “Could you please make sure she has everything she needs tonight? She’s very tired. It’s been hectic on the set with the filming winding up and everyone pressured to keep the schedule. I think it’s wearing on her.”

Liza nodded. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s definitely one of our favorite guests,” she added with a smile. That was true, too. Not just because they’d expected Charlotte to be a diva and she was so down-to-earth. But because she was such a sweet person, despite all her fame and glamour.

“Don’t worry, Meredith. You go out and have a nice evening. I’ll check on her personally,” Claire promised.

Meredith seemed satisfied with that. She thanked them and hurried into the inn, unable to resist checking on Charlotte one more time.

Claire carefully put her knitting away. “I guess we’d better head into the kitchen and finish dinner. The rest of the group will be back soon.”

Liza had the same feeling. She gave the ocean and blue skies one last longing look. She had hoped for a quick walk on the beach today, but that was not to be. Hosting the movie crew had been demanding, a good distraction from thinking too much about Daniel. Whenever her thoughts wandered toward missing him, some new task would draw her attention. But the pace seemed slower tonight. It was Saturday, after all. As the sun dropped toward the horizon into the blue waves, she couldn’t help wishing that Daniel were back on the island with her tonight. He had promised to call around ten. At least she had that to look forward to.

Oh, the life of running a B&B. It’s not all fresh scones and bouquets of wildflowers. And not nearly as glamorous as people think,
Liza thought with a secret smile.

A
BOUT
a half an hour—and nearly an entire bottle of organic pomegranate shower gel—later, Charlotte flopped onto her bed, wrapped in a plush terry robe. The beating hot water had helped to ease the aches and tension in her body, but she still felt sad and empty.

It was ironic, since she’d had a good workday. They all worked hard, but Brad had actually praised her performance after the final take of a major scene, and everyone in the crew had complimented her as she left the set. She felt satisfaction, of course, but her pleasure was quickly overshadowed by thoughts of Colin.

Since she had left him the night before, he was practically all she could think about. Her emotions were churned up like a tide pool at the ocean’s edge.

She had made a big mistake, saying good-bye in such a final way. She had hurt him and never meant to. She had just been trying to do the right thing, what she thought was best for both of them. But she wasn’t sure now. She wasn’t sure of anything—except the gnawing ache in her heart, the longing to see him again.

She picked her phone up off the bedside table and checked her messages again. There was nothing from Colin. She had called him during breaks and sent text messages all day. He didn’t respond at all.

That’s because I drove him away,
Charlotte realized.
No wonder he isn’t calling.

Should she try to find him and talk it out, face-to-face? Would he even talk to her again? Charlotte knew she had to take the risk.
She just didn’t want to leave the island on these terms. She just didn’t want him to end up hating her.

She picked up the phone and tapped out another text message.

She read the message over, wondering if she should say more. Then added:

She hit the Send button and set the phone down beside her on the flowery spread.
Just answer, Colin. Please?

She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes, amazed at her own behavior. What had come over her? She could not remember feeling or acting this way about a man since—high school.
Am I in love with him?
Charlotte felt a sudden jolt at the idea.

And then a thought came that hit her even harder.
What if Colin is the one? The one she was meant to love.

All she knew for sure right now was that she just couldn’t bear it if she didn’t see Colin again. If she didn’t get one more chance to watch his slow smile spread across his handsome face, to look into his blue eyes, deep as the sea. To feel his strong arms surround her, like the moment they first met when he pulled her out of the ice-cold water.

Her thoughts drifted, and Charlotte soon fell asleep. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there, but when she woke up the sky outside was dark and someone was knocking on the door.

Claire’s voice called softly to her, “Charlotte? I’m sorry to wake
you up if you’re sleeping. We just want to know how you feel. May I come in?”

Charlotte sat up on the edge of the bed and fixed the belt on her robe. “It’s all right. You can come in,” she called back. The lamp on the bedside table was on, casting the room in a soft glow. She checked the small clock and was shocked to see that it was nearly nine. She had been sleeping for over three hours.

Claire came in, carrying a tray. “I knocked before, around seven. But you didn’t answer and I didn’t want to disturb you. Do you feel sick? We could call Audrey Gilroy or Dr. Harding in Cape Light.”

Charlotte shook her head, then brushed damp tendrils off one shoulder. “I’m all right, just very tired.

“Are you hungry? I’ve brought you some soup and that ginger tea you like. Why don’t you eat a bite while it’s hot?”

Charlotte smiled at her. “All right. I didn’t think I was hungry, but the soup smells good. What kind is it?”

“Good old chicken, with garden vegetables. It’s the universal elixir, I find. It can cure so many ills.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure about that, but the fragrant aroma drew her as she sat at the table near the window where Claire had set up the meal. A small china plate held a large slice of lightly toasted fresh bread and another held dessert. “Mmmm, this looks good. I am hungry.” She started on the soup then took a bite of bread. Her damp hair flopped over her shoulder and she pushed it back. “I forgot to comb my hair out. It’s a total train wreck. I’ll be in trouble tomorrow with makeup,” she added with a sigh.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll help you get the tangles out. Just eat your soup while it’s hot,” Claire coaxed. She straightened the bed and fluffed up Charlotte’s pillow. Then she sat in the antique ballroom
chair near the window, her hands folded in her lap, as calm as the slice of toast on Charlotte’s tray.

Charlotte felt a wave of unexpected envy for the older woman’s peaceful demeanor. Were people just born that way—or was it something you could learn?

I could learn to be more like that if I lived here,
Charlotte thought.
Something about this island just seeps down into your soul, like a soothing balm.

“How do you feel? Any better?”

“Yes, thanks. This soup is magic,” Charlotte told her. She picked up the saucer to see what was for dessert. It looked like peach pie with vanilla ice cream. She couldn’t resist. She took a bite and sighed. “This is delicious. At least good food is always a comfort.”

“Yes, it can be,” Claire agreed. “We all need nourishment. For our bodies and our souls.”

That was true,
Charlotte thought. She loved acting and found great satisfaction in her work, especially when she stretched herself and gave a performance that pushed her beyond her previous limits. Still, her soul called for something more in life. Something beyond her work or even the satisfaction that came from helping her family. Something a relationship with a man like Colin might give her.

Charlotte picked up her tea and took a sip.

Claire stood up behind her. “Would you like me to see if I can smooth out your hair a bit? I know a few tricks about tangles.”

Charlotte glanced at her over her shoulder. The makeup artists and hairstylist worked on her for hours each day. It seemed too much to ask of Claire, but something in Claire’s expression made her feel it was all right. “If you really don’t mind,” Charlotte said.

“Not at all,” Claire assured her.

“I think there’s some conditioning spray or something in the bathroom.”

“I’ll go check,” Claire offered. “Why don’t you sit in that chair in front of the mirror, and I’ll see what I can do.” Charlotte went over to the antique dresser where a large oval mirror hung over the dressing table. Claire soon returned, carrying a tall glass that had been in the bathroom. It was filled with water, a wide-toothed comb sticking out of the top. “I didn’t find your spray, but I’ve mixed something that might be better—a home remedy for tangles with lavender oil and warm water.”

Claire quickly got to work, gently separating Charlotte’s thick mane into sections. She worked slowly and carefully, dipping the comb into the lavender mixture. The scent was very pleasant and relaxing. So was Claire’s gentle touch.