His Winter Rose

“Oh, we get Looky Lou’s all the time. Never amounts to a thing. Funny fellow with big glasses was in the office when Jason was away. Biggest brown eyes I ever saw. Wanted to know about the beach. It’s sand. What more could I say?” She croaked a laugh at her own joke.

So Wainwright Inc. had sent someone to check things out. It was strange Dylan was doing on-site research these days.

Piper realized Jason’s blue eyes were on her. A smear of sauce dotted his cheek.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Not really. I just wondered if a corporation was already interested. I didn’t see a hotel in town—”

“Exactly what I’ve been telling the council,” Jason exclaimed. “The no-tell motel is hardly the kind of place we want to showcase, though it’s clean enough. But Bart doesn’t think there’s any point in painting or modernizing the place, especially since business has been so slow. If he heard he’d have some competition, I imagine he’d sink some cash into his outfit pronto.”

“So nobody’s talked to you about building a hotel?” Piper had hoped for nonchalance but knew it hadn’t quite come off when Jason’s curious stare stayed on her. He couldn’t know why she was asking, could he?

“To me personally? No.” He turned toward the older woman. “Ida, you didn’t get the name of this man, did you?”

Ida set down her fork, her forehead wrinkled.

“He gave one. I just don’t remember what it was. Young fellow, really friendly. I might have written it down. I’ll check on Tuesday.” Her scrutiny shifted to Piper, grew more intense. “Why are you so interested in this guy?” she asked.

“If he was scouting locations, I’d like to talk to him,” she ad-libbed. “Maybe the town can dangle a carrot that would encourage someone to build.”

“We don’t have much to dangle,” Ida mumbled, her face skeptical. She forgot the subject they’d been discussing, until later when Piper was drying dishes beside her.

“You know who was here snooping around don’t you?”

“I could guess. I have a few feelers out with friends who suggested a company but I’ll have to do more checking.” She kept her attention on the glass she was drying.

“He kept asking about bylaws to do with the beach. You think someone wants to put a hotel right on it—like in Hawaii?” Ida swished the suds down the drain, then hung her dishcloth over the sink. “That might not be a bad idea.”

Piper set down the last dry dish, searching for a way to express her concern.

“It could work, with a lot of input from the town council. But we don’t want such a beautiful beach to be ruined.”

“By pollution, you mean?” Ida shrugged. “I’m sure the government has lots of laws to control that sort of thing.”

“Not just pollution. The wholesome atmosphere of the town has to be protected if we want to attract families. We don’t want a bar near little kids playing in the sand.”

“Goes without saying.” Apparently her explanation satisfied Ida, who then busied herself filling the coffee decanter with water. “Stays light longer now. Would you like to join us outside and watch the stars come out?”

“They are beautiful, but don’t make any coffee for me. Thanks, Ida. I have to be going. I sailed over and I need to get back before dark.”

“Harold and I probably shouldn’t be drinking coffee before bed, anyway. Harold always dreams.” Ida pulled open the fridge and took out a jug of red juice. “Can I interest you in some cranberry juice? Made it myself.”

“Could I try it another time?” Piper glanced at her watch, unwilling to believe the time on the kitchen clock was correct.

“You’re welcome anytime. Bring Jason with you. He says he likes his own cooking, but he doesn’t cook much. Gets most of his nourishment from those cinnamon buns he buys at the farmers’ market. I try to fatten him up.”

If Piper was any judge, the fattening up would take a while. Jason Franklin didn’t have a spare ounce on him. Rather, he had a polished, muscular look that made her think of a jaguar. From the state of his sneakers, she suspected he jogged to stay in shape. No wonder he could eat cinnamon buns whenever he wanted.

“Thank you very much for dinner. It was so delicious, I won’t have to think about another meal for days. And if you ever want to let me in on your secret rib recipe…” Piper let the sentence trail away when Ida shook her head firmly.

“Can’t do that, but you’re welcome to share them anytime.”

“Thank you. And you and Harold are always welcome at Cathcart House.”

The dock was only a few minutes’ walk from Ida’s, but Jason insisted on driving Piper.

“I would have walked here with you, but I wanted to drop off Harold’s motor.” He hoisted the machine out of his truck bed and stood it against the workshop where Ida’s husband waited beside the birdhouses he’d carved from driftwood.

They thanked the couple for the meal, wishing them good-night before riding back to the marina. Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Piper couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Are you going to be able to get back safely?” Jason asked as he unfastened her boat from its moorings.

The evening had grown cool and Piper tugged her coat from its hiding place in the hatch of the sailboat. “Oh, yes. I’ll be fine.”

Jason scanned the sky.

“There’s a storm blowing in,” he told her. “You could get swamped.”

She tried to explain that she’d been sailing many times, and had handled her fair share of rough weather, but he refused to listen.

“I’ll tie your boat behind mine. I’ve got an inboard that can weather anything. It won’t take long to zip across the lake. Besides, I’ll feel a whole lot better if I know for certain that you’re home, dry and safe. The lake water is too cold to capsize in.”

She couldn’t talk him out of it, and so a few moments later Piper found herself seated beside him in his boat, watching the familiar coastline fly past. Truthfully she enjoyed the feeling of knowing someone cared. It had been a long time. Another thing she’d prayed about and it was still unanswered. Did God want her to remain single?

Jason asked her questions about her meeting with the guild and she told him some of what she’d learned and how she intended to use it.

He was obsessive, about the town at least. Well, maybe she could use that to her advantage.

They arrived in her little cove twenty minutes later, just as the last flicker of light sank behind the jagged cliffs of Paradise Peak. As she peered up through the gloom, Piper could see little of the familiar landmarks because the dock lights hadn’t come on.

“Will you come up for some coffee?” she invited, once her sailboat was secured.

“Only if you make it hot chocolate,” Jason said. “After Ida’s high-octane sauce, my stomach will go into convulsions if I add coffee.”

“Sure.” Funny that his agreement brought such a flush of relief. She’d never worried about coming back late before. Piper led him off the dock and up the path to her home.

“You need some automatic lights. With all the clouds, it’s quite dark along here. The trees keep out the moonlight.”

She was suddenly aware of why she’d felt so uneasy. It wasn’t just the dock lights that were out. There were no lights along here, either.

His hand grazed her shoulder.

“Piper? What’s wrong?”

“I do have lights.” She looked up, pointed. “There’s one.”

“Well, it’s not working.”