Cedar Cove Collection

“No, I’ve had enough, thanks.” She didn’t want him to go to the trouble, especially since she didn’t plan on staying long.

He stood with his hands tucked in his back pockets, looking indecisive. The tour of his home had taken all of about one minute.

“I’ll escort you back to your car,” he offered.

Justine was grateful; she didn’t relish walking back along the floating dock on her own. Once again Seth took her hand, and neither spoke until they reached her vehicle. Before unlocking the door, she turned to him. “Thanks,” she said lightly. “I enjoyed dinner and seeing your boat.”

“I enjoyed spending the evening with you.” He retreated a step. “Are you going to any more of the planning meetings?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think so. What about you?”

“I will as long as I’m in town.”

“Oh, right.” Seth would be in Alaska fishing at the time of the reunion. Suddenly the thought of his not being there dejected her. When she’d first arrived at Lana’s, she was so certain she had nothing in common with any of these people. She’d been delighted to discover that she did. With one of them, anyway…

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

“Do you mean that?” Seth stared down at her.

Justine nodded.

“I’m glad.” Then, without giving her a chance to guess his intention, he drew her into his arms and slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

Very much aware of what she was doing, Justine closed her eyes and raised her face to meet his kiss. His lips settled warm and moist over hers. Wrapped in his embrace, she was astonished to realize that she wanted this. Wanted it badly…

There was excitement in his kiss, and gentleness. She hadn’t expected a man of his size to be so…tender, but then Seth Gunderson had been full of surprises all evening.

The John F. Reynolds was gone and without a word from Ian. The fact that he’d left without notifying her was perfectly okay, Cecilia told herself bitterly. Their last meeting had been so horrible she didn’t care if she ever saw her soon-to-be ex-husband again.

“You all right, kiddo?” her father asked Saturday morning when Cecilia dropped in at the restaurant to pick up her paycheck.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” she snapped.

“No reason,” he said, and held up his hands as though warding off trouble.

She hadn’t meant to growl at him, but lately her father had developed this irritating habit of trying to be her friend, her confidante, and she rejected both roles.

“How’s school?” he asked, obviously attempting to make conversation.

“Why the concern all of a sudden?” she wanted to know. When she’d first mentioned it, all the encouragement she’d gotten was some offhand comment about how cool that was.

“No reason,” he said again. He turned away as if he regretted even asking.

Cecilia sighed, hardly understanding herself. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Bobby stared at her. “What’s bothering you, kid? You’ve been in kind of a bad mood the last couple of weeks.”

“That’s not true.”

He frowned, seemed about to protest, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

“It’s just that I’ve been working late, then getting up early for school.” A feeble explanation, but the most she was willing to give. Lack of sleep explained a lot, but not everything.

“So you’re still taking all those classes?” He seemed to think she would’ve lost interest by now.

“Yeah, I’m still in school.” And loving the challenge, despite the drain on her time and energy.

“Ian around these days?” her father asked cautiously.

“Apparently not,” she said, speaking in a nonchalant manner. “The John F. Reynolds left earlier this week.” It wasn’t as though she could ignore the fact. The media—both the local paper and the Seattle dailies, plus the TV news—had made a big issue of the repaired aircraft carrier departing for the second time within a month. Not only that, Cedar Cove had been full of talk about it.

“You speak to him lately?”

Cecilia noticed that Bobby stood several feet away from her. He seemed prepared to make a quick getaway if she snapped at him again.

“Ian and I are getting a divorce,” she reminded him.

“I know,” he said, “but I thought, you know, that you might be reconciling.”

Cecilia had started to believe the very same thing. After the night they’d gone to dinner, and the lovemaking, she’d been hopeful. Excited. It was similar to the way she’d felt when they’d first begun seeing each other. Then, when he’d left her apartment that night, everything had changed, and she couldn’t understand why.

“I wish you’d work it out,” Bobby told her, “you and him.”

Resentment swelled up inside Cecilia. “I wish you and Mom had tried harder, too, but wishing doesn’t do me a damn bit of good, does it?” With that, she grabbed her paycheck and slammed out the door.

She was angry, without justification. Her father irritated her, her coworkers annoyed her—everyone did lately—and that wasn’t like her. Bobby only wanted to be helpful and she’d immediately found fault with him. Not since her pregnancy had Cecilia been so out of sorts. She didn’t have that excuse this time; her period had showed up right on schedule—thank God. Her bad mood was simply…a bad mood, she decided.

After depositing her paycheck, she went to the grocery store and picked up the few items she’d need to see her through the week. Although it was an extravagance she couldn’t afford, she purchased a bouquet of spring flowers—for Allison. She hadn’t visited her baby’s grave in almost a month. Staying away was difficult for her. She’d had to make a real effort not to visit the cemetery every day. In the beginning she had.

She’d wanted to be more than a good mother; she’d wanted to give her daughter everything she herself had never had. Not material things, but attention and love and security. As it happened, she couldn’t give Allison the most fundamental thing of all. Life itself. Her baby had been cheated from the first, and Cecilia, with all her good intentions, had failed. Rationally she knew she wasn’t to blame, but emotionally… She couldn’t get over the feeling that there must have been something she’d neglected to do. Something she should’ve done. The doctor had said that was a common reaction in such cases and had urged her to seek counselling. Cecilia hadn’t been able to face it.

She didn’t head for the cemetery until midafternoon. With tears in her eyes, she strolled along the pathway that led to the section of the cemetery with Allison’s grave site. She stopped now and again to brush leaves or grass from a headstone, checking names and dates, wondering about each lost life.

When she arrived at Allison’s grave, Cecilia noticed the bouquet of fresh flowers. Yellow daisies, which just happened to be Cecilia’s favorite.

Ian. It could only be Ian.

He hadn’t called to tell her he was being deployed, but he’d been to visit their daughter. Cecilia crouched down and placed her own bouquet next to the one her husband had left. She touched the daisies with one fingertip, wondering if this was a message to her.

No, she decided, steeling herself against any lingering emotion. Ian had made it plain that he didn’t want her in his life. He’d wanted her body but not her. That message had come through loud and clear. He’d asked her to leave his hospital room in terms she couldn’t possibly misunderstand. And he hadn’t phoned to apologize. Fine, dammit! She didn’t need his car, anyway.

The more Cecilia insisted she didn’t care about Ian, the less she convinced herself. Not that she wanted to care. This depression and anger was all his fault. Once again she’d allowed him into her bed…and her heart. And now she was suffering the consequences.

It hurt that he’d left Bremerton without so much as a word to her. Not goodbye, not I’m sorry, nothing. He’d been rude and unreasonable, and this wasn’t the first time, either.

Back at her small apartment, Cecilia tried to do her English homework but her mind repeatedly wandered away from the English Romantic poets and down paths she’d prefer to avoid.

When the phone rang, she was jolted by the sudden noise. With an exaggerated sigh, she picked up the receiver.