Wandering Heart (9781101561362) (5 page)

Audrey went into the kitchen, careful to close the door behind her. She got out two plastic bowls and filled one with water. It was harder to decide what to put in the other. But she remembered a
leftover container of potatoes and some cold chicken in the fridge and mixed it all together. She had no doubt the dog would devour the tasty people food but hoped it wouldn’t get an upset stomach. That was all she needed tonight.

When she came back out to the porch, the dog ran over to her, then quickly sat in an obedient position while she set the food and water down.

“Okay, go ahead. I guess you’ve had some training. Maybe that pounce outside was just a moment of desperation?”

She watched the dog inhale the chicken and potatoes, then lap up the entire bowl of water. The dog was a female, Audrey finally surmised, and much larger than it had looked from the window. She had a long wolfish muzzle and triangle ears, like a Labrador or a golden retriever. The dog’s coat was long and shaggy, like a retriever. But it was bigger and bulkier than any golden Audrey had ever seen, more like a Bernese mountain dog. It was obviously a mixed breed. Maybe a little bit of bear in there, too, she thought.

When the dog was finished eating, she came over and stood right next to Audrey, leaning against Audrey’s leg. The dog’s big head came almost to Audrey’s hip. Audrey absentmindedly petted her. The dog’s fur was wet and muddy, but there was nothing to be done about that tonight. Audrey had already been down here for longer than she expected and had a full day of work tomorrow. “I have to go up to bed now. You go to sleep.”

The dog looked up, listening and watching Audrey with her big brown eyes. But she didn’t budge.

“Wait. I’ll get you something to sleep on.”

Audrey looked around the porch and spotted an old afghan slung over a rocking chair. She folded it twice, then piled it in a cozy corner of the room, away from the door and windows.

“Here you are. A nice bed. What do you think?” Audrey patted the spot with her hand, showing the dog the soft cushion she’d made.

The dog sniffed the afghan. Then she circled around a few times and lay down, curling her big tail close to her nose.

“Have a nice sleep. Tomorrow we’ll check around for your owner. No offense, but I’ve always been more of a cat person. Better to be up front about these things from the start. I don’t want you to get any needless expectations. Besides, someone must be looking for you, and I bet you want to go home. Wherever that is.”

The dog stared back at her, then let out a long, rattling sigh. Audrey shut off the little lamp and headed back upstairs. She did seem like a nice dog. But they already had several felines roaming the barn and grounds, doing their cat job at the farm. She and Rob didn’t need a dog, too.

The dog had a collar and must belong to someone. Audrey told herself she would check around tomorrow and try to find her owner. Or bring her to a shelter.

Audrey closed her eyes and pulled the comforter up over her shoulders. The storm had passed, and a gentle patter of drops on the roof quickly lulled her back to sleep. Even though she didn’t care much for dogs, she fell asleep with a good feeling. At least she’d done a good deed today.

“I guess you could say we’ve been up since the crack of dawn, if the sun was out. But it’s still like pea soup out there.”

Liza turned to Claire. The housekeeper didn’t answer, but smiled gently at her. Claire always took things in a much calmer manner, and she was endlessly patient. She just had a different sense of time, Liza decided.

They had finally finished getting ready for their unusual guests and were waiting on the front porch for the movie crew’s arrival. It was just about eight a.m., and Liza hoped some extra coffee would give her a second wind. They had been up since six, taking care of those preparations that could only be done at the last minute, like the baking and putting fresh flowers in all the rooms.

She had hoped last night’s storm would clear the way for blue skies, but there were only more low gray clouds in sight. Though it wasn’t exactly raining, the fog was thick, especially down at the beach, and a light, damp wind blew off the sea, making it feel as if you were standing in the bow of a boat.

“Will they really shoot a movie in this weather?” Liza asked Claire. “Down on the beach, you probably can’t even see your hand in front of your face.”

“I was just wondering the same.” Claire set her mug down on the wicker table and smoothed her apron. She’d been baking all morning and had just put on a fresh apron for the guests.

“They might be in the inn all day. At least I made a double recipe of the scones. Wonder how long those will last.”

Liza glanced at her. Either Judy Kramer had been trying to scare her, or two double recipes wouldn’t last very long with this group.

Finally, Liza saw the first van down the road. It steered into the parking lot, followed by a caravan of more vans and the big-box trucks, which parked on the opposite side of the road, next to the cliff over the beach.

“Here they come. It’s showtime,” Liza said.

“Indeed,” Claire replied, rising to watch the parade from the porch railing. “How will they get all that heavy equipment down to the beach? They can’t carry it down all those steps, can they?”

“They lower it with special winches or something. Judy explained
it to me,” Liza said without taking her eyes off the cars that were rolling up the circular drive.

The last time they had entertained this many guests at once, they’d held a wedding. Though the preparation had taken weeks and nearly driven Liza crazy, the event itself had only taken a few hours. But this group would be camped out for days, and there was no telling how long if the weather didn’t break.

Well, you wanted the inn filled,
Liza reminded herself.
Be careful what you wish for next time.
As the vehicles continued to arrive and empty out, Liza felt as if an army was invading.

Claire seemed to sense her trepidation and patted her hand. “We can do this, Liza. Never fear. Stay calm and carry on,” she advised.

“I can do it with your help,” Liza replied, casting an affectionate smile Claire’s way.

“And I can do all things through God, who strengthens me,” Claire answered quietly. “So together … we make quite an invincible team.”

Though Liza was not as strong a believer as Claire, it was almost impossible to live on the island, immersed in the beauty of the sky and ocean and magnificent landscape, without humbly recognizing that there was something more at work in the universe. Something powerful and sacred. Liza felt touched by that power almost every day in this place. It was one of the many reasons she had chosen to live out here.

The sound of car doors slamming and people calling orders and instructions to one another snapped Liza into action. She spotted Judy walking toward the inn, along with two men who both looked like they were important players on this team.

Liza came down from the porch to greet them, and Judy quickly introduced her to Mike Herald, the film’s producer, and Bradley
Scott, the director. Both men smiled politely and shook her hand, but Liza could tell they were engaged in a serious conversation and didn’t have time for small talk. Especially with the innkeeper.

Liza didn’t take it to heart. She was thankful for the business; she didn’t need attention from the Hollywood moguls. Judy was nice enough, she thought, as she reviewed the room assignments and gave out keys to the crew members checking in.

“Will they really go down to the beach and shoot the film today?” Liza asked her.

“I don’t know,” Judy said quietly. “Mike and Bradley are trying to work that out.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the two bigwigs, who now stood across the road, pacing back and forth in front of the steps to the beach.

“Where are Charlotte Miller and Nick Dempsey?” Liza asked, suddenly realizing that the mega stars were not among the crowd.

“Oh, they’ll be here any minute now,” Judy answered, putting her phone to her ear. She wore a black baseball cap with her long blond ponytail hanging out the back. Pale blue cursive writing across the peak of the cap read,
A Wandering Heart
, which was the name of the film. With her shiny black raincoat and wide belt, Judy looked very stylish for someone who was going to work on a wet beach all day.

Liza stared down at her own worn jeans, running shoes, and Cape Light sweatshirt, which had a big lobster printed on the back. With an amused shrug, she went back into the inn. Many of the crew members had already found the coffee station and were wandering about with cups of coffee or mugs of tea and Claire’s fresh, fluffy blueberry scones.

“Is he here yet?” Liza turned at the urgent whisper.

Audrey stood by her side, wearing lipstick—for possibly the first, or maybe second time in her life—and an urgent, excited expression.

“Not yet. They should be here any minute. When did you get here? I didn’t even see you come in.”

“I came through the kitchen. I gave Claire the rest of your order. You can just call in tomorrow if you need a refill,” Audrey added, gazing around at the milling crowd.

“Thanks. I might do that.”

Mike and Bradley now stood on the porch, talking with Judy. Through the open doorway, Liza saw a long shiny black car cruise up to the inn.

Audrey gripped her arm, her fingers digging into Liza’s skin. “He’s here. He’s in that car. I can’t believe it.” She headed for the door, and Liza followed her.

Liza didn’t think it was a good idea to pounce on the stars as soon as they stuck a toe out of their limo. She looked down at her shabby outfit again. Why hadn’t she changed her clothes after working this morning? In all the excitement, she hadn’t thought about it.

Oh, well,
she told herself.
This is an authentic New England look, that’s for sure.

While the movie executives rushed down the steps to meet the stars, Liza and Audrey hung back, watching.

The rear door of the car opened and Nick Dempsey came out first. Liza heard Audrey quietly gasp. “Oh, wow … I have to take a picture with my phone, Liza. Please?”

“Okay. But just one. Try to be subtle about it?”

Audrey had already slipped out the phone and clicked several shots.

“He’s not as tall as he looks in the movies,” Liza said.

Audrey laughed. “He’s tall enough for me … Oh, look, there’s Charlotte Miller. I need a picture of her, too.”

Liza just shook her head. She watched Judy and the film producer, Mike, walk around the car to greet Charlotte while Bradley hung back, talking to Nick. A driver took several black duffel bags and rolling suitcases from the trunk of the car and then everyone headed back into the inn.

Liza suddenly felt frozen to the spot, though she knew she had to at least welcome them and introduce herself.

Audrey gave her a firm push. “Jump in there, Liza. Nothing to it. They’re people just like you and me.”

Liza turned and looked at her friend. Audrey hardly seemed to have that attitude a few minutes ago when she was snapping her souvenir photos.

Suddenly she had no choice. Judy stood at the top of the steps and smiled at her. “Liza, I’d like you to meet our stars, Nick Dempsey and Charlotte Miller. This is Liza Martin, our host,” she added.

Liza extended her hand and forced a big smile, which she hoped was warm and welcoming, and not the expression of a deer caught in headlights.

She shook Nick Dempsey’s hand first. “Welcome to the Inn at Angel Island. We’re delighted to host your visit. If there’s anything at all I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let me know.”

Nick Dempsey’s smile was quick and practiced, his teeth incredibly white. He gave her hand a quick, strong shake. “Hello, Liza. Nice to meet you.” He gazed around at the entrance to the inn. “Isn’t this cozy? Wow, how did you ever find this place, Judy?” He began talking to the production associate as if Liza had suddenly disappeared.

Liza sensed that he would have been happier with a more modern, conventional hotel. But what could she do? He wasn’t staying over, thank goodness. She and Claire would cater to him during his breaks. She hoped he wouldn’t be too fussy.

She studied him more carefully. He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans, with a black polo shirt underneath with the collar flipped up. Expensive sunglasses hung from a little rubber string around his neck. His clothes did not set him apart from mere mortals, yet he still looked like a celebrity somehow, practically glowing as he stood gazing around the foyer. His skin was very tan and smooth. His thick dark hair was combed back from his forehead, still wet from a shower.

In fact, he looked like he’d just woken up, Liza realized. “Would you like some coffee, Mr. Dempsey?” she said quickly.

“I’d absolutely love some. Lead me to it.” His deep voice was very dramatic and echoed in the foyer, even in this small exchange. He was an actor 24/7, wasn’t he?

“Audrey will get it for you.” Liza turned to her friend, who hovered at her shoulder. “Would you get Mr. Dempsey some coffee?”

Audrey nodded quickly. She couldn’t even speak. Her hands were actually trembling.

“That would be fantastic. A little skim milk. Half a pack of no-cal sweetener. And please, call me Nick.”

Judy’s assistant, Zach, came over and drew Nick into the front parlor. “Is Mike serious?” Liza heard Nick say to Zach. “We can’t shoot outside in this fog. It will look like a slasher film.”

So that’s what was going on. The head honchos were debating about whether or not to work outside. The answer seemed obvious to her, but what did she know about making a movie?

Charlotte Miller’s entrance drew her full attention. The star was
finally coming inside, flanked by the producer, director, and Judy. The chauffeur followed with all the bags.

Charlotte was tall and willowy, even more so than she looked on screen. Her long golden-red hair was wound in a hasty bun with curly tendrils falling down perfectly around her beautiful face, which was bare of makeup. The term porcelain complexion didn’t even come close to describing her smooth, fair skin. Her features were fine and delicate, her heart-shaped face nearly overwhelmed by her large blue-green eyes.