Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection

“Of me?”

She nodded. “He moved to Cedar Cove because it was the closest facility to where you lived. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose.” He didn’t seem convinced.

“I understood Tom. Don’t ask me how or why, but the two of us bonded. Some days it was almost as if we could talk. I understood what he wanted to say and he appeared to understand me.”

“My father said he always did have a way with the ladies.”

Charlotte stiffened, then decided Cliff was probably right. She wouldn’t take offense, although that was her first instinct. “Your grandfather never had the chance to tell you he loved you.”

“Loved me?” Cliff flared. “He never even met me.”

“You’re right, of course, but you were his only living relative. He’d obviously kept track of you. Otherwise, how would he have known where you were living or that you raised horses?”

“Are you sure he knew that?”

“I believe he did. The same way I’m confident he wanted you to have the things I took out of his storage unit. He wasn’t able to be part of your life. Perhaps he felt he didn’t have the right to intrude on you. But it’s his blood that runs through your veins. He was proud of you—I know it. Proud to be your grandfather. This is all he had to give you.”

Cliff Harding set down his coffee and stood. Staring out the window, he turned his back to Charlotte. “I came this afternoon to thank you for your efforts on my grandfather’s behalf and to tell you I wanted nothing to do with the man.”

“And now?”

“You’re a very persuasive woman, Mrs. Jefferson.”

“Does that mean you’ll take his things home with you?” She hoped he would. And more importantly, she wanted him to examine each piece and discover the man Tom Harding had been. She feared Cliff would pack everything away without learning about his heritage.

“I’ll take them.”

“And you’ll carefully study what your grandfather left you?”

He nodded.

“I believe you’ve made a wise decision.” Sighing deeply, Charlotte knew she’d put in a good day’s work. Somehow, she’d accomplished what Tom had wanted her to do. And on a more personal note, she’d be glad to remove the gun from her girdle.

Justine bought a slinky blue dress for her ten-year class reunion, but she didn’t know who she was hoping to impress. Her one consolation, as she headed out the door for the festivities, was that Seth Gunderson wouldn’t be attending. She should know. As the treasurer for the reunion, Justine had compiled a list of who’d signed up and who’d paid. Seth had done neither.

She felt humiliated arriving without a date, but why should this night be different from any other high-school function? Justine had been an outsider all through those years. She was the class brain, the valedictorian and the girl voted most likely to succeed. With several scholarships offered, she’d dutifully chosen a prestigious East Coast school and followed the course set out for her, but she was never truly happy.

She hated life on campus, hated being away from Cedar Cove. After her graduation, she’d taken a job at First National. In the years since, she’d been promoted steadily. Now she was the youngest branch manager in Cedar Cove history, and one of the bank’s youngest senior employees. Justine loved the challenge of her job and enjoyed playing an active role in financing the growth of her community. But she considered her personal life a dismal failure.

Warren would have attended the reunion with her if she’d pressed him. She hadn’t, afraid her former classmates would assume he was her father or, even worse, an old teacher they couldn’t quite place.

The high-school gymnasium looked great, if she did say so herself. The decoration committee, of which she was a part, had worked hard and done a fabulous job. Fresh flowers were everywhere, on the tables and in huge rented vases along the walls.

The band was already playing, and almost involuntarily Justine tapped her foot to the music as she waited in line to collect her badge and sign in. Everyone around her was talking; she was surrounded by squeals of recognition and “do you remember when’s.” Just as she had in high school, she remained the outsider, listening in, smiling and pretending she felt at ease when she didn’t.

Attending this reunion was a bad idea. Her instincts had told her that months earlier, and she should’ve heeded them.

“Justine!” Lana Rothchild hurried around the sign-in table and hugged her as though it’d been years since they’d seen each other. Actually they’d worked on the decorations together that very morning. “I love your dress.”

“Thanks.” The metallic-blue dress had short sleeves and a deep V in front. Knee-length, it clung to her trim figure. She’d bought the dress on impulse and had decided not to think too hard about it.

“Do you need any help?” Justine asked, looking for a way to appear busy and needed and part of the group.

“Everything’s under control. You just enjoy yourself.”

Justine wondered if that was possible.

“I can’t thank you enough for all the help you gave us,” Lana said as she handed Justine a badge.

With no further excuse to linger, she walked into the main part of the gymnasium. A few couples were dancing, a clump of women had gathered on one side, a group of men on the other—not all that different from the high-school dances she’d attended. Thinking a glass of wine would relax her, she found the bar and ordered a zinfandel, then stood by herself on the outskirts of the dance floor. It had been the same ten years earlier.

“Hello, Justine.”

Seth Gunderson stood directly in front of her, deeply tanned, his hair so blond it was almost white. His eyes had never looked bluer.

“What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I graduated the same year as you, remember?”

“I mean…” She found it difficult to think. “Aren’t you…I thought…well, of course we graduated the same—”

“I flew home for the reunion,” he said, answering the question she couldn’t seem to get past her teeth.

“I realize that…what about…” Rather than continue making an idiot of herself, she simply stopped talking.

“You’re surprised to see me. Actually, I surprised myself by deciding to fly down at the last minute.”

Surprised was an understatement, as far as Justine was concerned.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

She couldn’t stop staring at him. No man on earth had a right to look this good. Refusing him would have required more effort than she could possibly muster. Oh, yes, she wanted to dance with him. Wanted to slide into his arms, be held by him…

Rather than attempt to respond verbally—at the rate she was going she hadn’t a clue what might actually come out of her mouth—she nodded and put her wineglass on a nearby table.

Seth led her onto the dance floor and turned her into his embrace. Naturally—fittingly—the band was playing a slow dance and she lifted her arms as he held her loosely. Justine was amazed at how well-suited they were physically. At five-ten and in heels, she was taller than most of the men, but Seth still had several inches on her. She rested her head against his shoulder and breathed in his clean, outdoor scent.

This was the first time she’d ever danced with him.

“You came alone?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

The music was mesmerizing and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and give herself completely over to it. That couldn’t happen, especially with Seth. She couldn’t allow herself to be trapped in the magic of the moment. She refused to let her guard down, certain that as soon as she did, Seth would ask her about Warren, or the engagement.

“I did, too,” he said after a minute. “Came here alone, I mean.”