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44 Cranberry Point
Debbie Macamber

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.

CEDAR COVE 16 LIGHTHOUSE ROAD 204 ROSEWOOD AVENUE 311 PELICAN COURT 44 CRANBERRY POINT 50 HARBOR STREET 6 RAINIER DRIVE

BLOSSOM STREET THE SHOP ON BLOSSOM STREET A GOODYARN OLD BOYFRIENDS WEDNESDAYS AT FOUR TWENTY WISHES SUMMER ON BLOSSOM STREET HANNAH’S LIST

THURSDAYS AT EIGHT

CHRISTMAS IN SEATTLE

To Leslee Borger and

her incredible mother, Ruth Koelzer

Dear Reader,

If this is your first visit to Cedar Cove, welcome! All the people in town are eager to introduce themselves. And if you’re here for a repeat visit, welcome back. There’s been a lot going on in town. Charlotte, Jack, Olivia, Grace, Cecilia and the others are looking forward to bringing you up to date on everything that’s happened. You’ll also discover surprises along the way…as well as some romance and a few laughs.

I promise a final resolution to the mystery about the man who died in the Beldons’ B&B. After all, Peggy and Bob just want their lives to return to normal. But…there’s another mystery developing, and this one involves the McAfees.

If you’d like to drop me a note, just log on to my website at www.debbiemacomber.com and sign the guest book. If you’re interested in regular updates on the Cedar Cove characters, log on and click on the Cedar Cove button. As a bonus, I include the characters’ favourite recipes…If you’re not online but don’t want to miss out, you can write to me at PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, Washington 98366, USA.

Speaking of Port Orchard…If you happen to visit, you might notice a resemblance between my home town and Cedar Cove. Not the characters, mind you, but just about everything else. Towns like this are great to visit in real life—and between the pages of a book.

Now, please grab something to drink (Peggy Beldon would make you a cup of tea!), find a comfortable spot and begin your visit to Cedar Cove. I’m so glad you’re here.

Warmest regards,

Some of the Residents ofCedar Cove, Washington

Olivia Lockhart Griffin: Divorced from Stan Lockhart. Now married to Jack Griffin. Family court judge in Cedar Cove. Mother of Justine and James. Lives at 16 Lighthouse Road.

Charlotte Jefferson: Mother of Olivia, widow, lifelong resident of Cedar Cove.

Justine (Lockhart) Gunderson: Daughter of Olivia, married to Seth, mother of Leif.

Seth Gunderson: Justine’s husband. Co-owner, with Justine, of The Lighthouse restaurant.

James Lockhart: Olivia’s son and Justine’s younger brother. In the navy. Lives in San Diego with wife, Selina, and daughter, Isabella.

Stanley Lockhart: Olivia’s ex-husband and father of James and Justine. Now lives in Seattle and divorced from his second wife.

Will Jefferson: Olivia’s brother, Charlotte’s son. Married and lives in Atlanta.

Grace Sherman: Olivia’s best friend. Librarian. Widow. Mother of Maryellen and Kelly. Lives at 204 Rosewood Lane.

Dan Sherman: Grace’s dead husband.

Maryellen Sherman: Oldest daughter of Grace and Dan. Mother of Katie.

Kelly Jordan: Maryellen’s sister, married to Paul, mother of Tyler.

Jon Bowman: Photographer, chef and father of Katie. Engaged to Maryellen.

Jack Griffin: Newspaper reporter and editor of The Cedar Cove Chronicle. Recovering alcoholic, married to Olivia Lockhart. Father of Eric, who lives in Nevada with his wife, Shelly, and their twin boys.

Zachary Cox: Accountant, remarried to Rosie. Father of Allison and Eddie Cox. Lives at 311 Pelican Court.

Cliff Harding: Retired engineer and now horse breeder living near Cedar Cove. Divorced father of Lisa, who lives in Maryland. He has an on-and-off relationship with Grace Sherman.

Cecilia Randall: Navy wife, living near Cedar Cove. Accountant. Married to Ian Randall, submariner. Lost a baby, Allison.

Bob and Peggy Beldon: Retired. Own the Thyme and Tide Bed & Breakfast at 44 Cranberry Point. Have two adult children.

Roy McAfee: Private detective, retired from Seattle police force. Two adult children. The McAfees live at 5 Harbor Street.

Corrie McAfee: Roy’s wife and office manager.

Troy Davis: Cedar Cove sheriff.

Pastor Flemming: Local Methodist minister.

Ben Rhodes: Retired naval officer. Member of the Senior Centre. Involved with Charlotte Jefferson.

Chapter One

Peggy Beldon walked into her newly planted garden, taking real pleasure in the sights and smells that surrounded her. This was her private place, her one true source of serenity. The fresh briny scent of the water off Puget Sound drifted toward her as she watched the Washington State ferry glide from Bremerton toward Seattle on its sixty-minute journey. This was a typical May afternoon in Cedar Cove-comfortably warm with just a hint of a breeze.

Peggy uncoiled the garden hose and moved carefully between the rows of leaf lettuce, sweet peas and pole beans. She had a strong practical streak, expressed in her vegetable and herb gardens; she satisfied her craving for beauty with the flower gardens in front. Looking back at the house that always had been her dream, Peggy smiled. She’d grown up in Cedar Cove, graduated from the local high school and married Bob Beldon on his return from Vietnam. The early years had been difficult because of Bob’s reliance on alcohol. But then, to her eternal gratitude, he’d discovered Alcoholics Anonymous; it had saved their marriage and quite possibly Bob’s life. Until AA, Bob had spent most nights drinking, by himself or with friends. When he drank, he became a different person, no longer the man she’d married. She didn’t like to think about that time. Thankfully, her husband had remained sober for twenty-one years.

Walking between the rows, Peggy gently watered the seedlings. Several years earlier, Bob had accepted early retirement and with the severance package, they’d purchased the house on Cranberry Point. Peggy had loved it for as long as she could remember. Situated on a point of land overlooking Sinclair Inlet, the two-story structure, built in the late 1930s, had seemed like a mansion to her. Over the years, it had changed owners a number of times and had started to deteriorate, since no one had cared enough to provide the maintenance it needed. By straining their finances, Bob and Peggy had managed to buy it for a price far below its current market value.

Her husband was a talented handyman and within a few months they were able to hang out a sign for their bed-and-breakfast. Peggy hadn’t known how much business to expect, how many guests would be attracted to the Thyme and Tide B and B, as they’d called it. She’d hoped, of course, that they’d make enough to supplement their retirement income-and they had. She was proud of the success they’d achieved. Their traditional home, warm hospitality and her cooking had brought them steady customers and a growing reputation. They’d even been reviewed in a national magazine, which had reserved its highest praise for the food, especially her baking. The reviewer had spent two whole sentences describing her blueberry muffins and homemade fruit cobbler. She had twenty blueberry bushes and eight raspberry canes, and she pampered them lovingly. Each summer she was rewarded with an ample supply for her guests and her family. Life had seemed about as perfect as it could get.

Then the unimaginable happened.

More than a year ago, a stranger had knocked on their door in the middle of a dark, stormy night. If it hadn’t been so clichéd she might’ve been amused, but this was no laughing matter. The man had rented a room and then promptly locked himself inside.

A hundred times since, Peggy had regretted not insisting he complete the usual paperwork. It was late, and he’d seemed so tired that they’d simply shown him to his room. They could deal with the necessities in the morning, over breakfast.

But by morning, the stranger was dead.

Ever since, Peggy had felt as if they were caught in some kind of whirlwind, tossed about by forces beyond their control. Bad enough that the man had died in their home, but then they’d learned that he’d carried false identification. Nothing was as it seemed. By the end of that day, after hours with the sheriff and the coroner, there’d been more questions than answers.

She saw Bob pull the riding lawn mower out of the garage. At the sound of the engine, Peggy paused in watering her seedlings, one hand shading her eyes. Even after all these years of marriage, she never grew tired of their life together. They’d survived the bad times with their love intact. And their attraction, too. Bob was tall and had kept his shape, his sandy brown hair neatly trimmed. His arms were already tanned from exposure to the sun. He loved his workshop and she was genuinely impressed by what he could do with a few pieces of oak or pine. She’d fallen in love with Bob Beldon as a teenager and she loved him still.

Now, however, she was worried. She didn’t want to think about the dead man, but it was unavoidable, especially after what they’d recently found out. Sheriff Davis had identified their mystery guest as Maxwell Russell. To say Bob was shocked would be putting it mildly. He’d been with Max in Vietnam. Dan Sherman, who was also dead, Bob, Max and another man named Stewart Samuels had belonged to that squadron. They’d gotten lost in a Southeast Asian jungle with tragic results.

Once the identity of the dead man was established, another shocking revelation had come to light. The sheriff, with the help of local private investigator Roy McAfee, had discovered that Max Russell’s death was no accident.

He’d been poisoned.

The water bottle he’d carried with him had been laced with odorless, tasteless Rohypnol, commonly known as the “date rape” drug. The dose had been large enough to stop his heart. Maxwell Russell had gone to bed, tired from a long day of travel, and he never woke up.

Bob rode past her on the lawn mower with a quick wave, and Peggy continued to water her garden, but a pang went through her. At this very moment Bob could be in danger, but he seemed content to ignore any risk rather than admit her concerns were legitimate.

As she set aside the hose, Peggy caught sight of Sheriff Davis’s patrol car coming down Cranberry Point. She immediately felt the tension between her shoulder blades. She hoped he planned to talk some sense into Bob.

Her husband must have seen the patrol car at the same time Peggy did because he cut the engine and climbed off the lawn mower. Sheriff Troy Davis turned into the driveway, then stepped out of his vehicle. In the beginning, when it looked like Bob might be a suspect in the murder case, Davis wasn’t nearly as welcome here as he was now.

The sheriff, who was probably a little heavier than he should be, took a moment to hike up his pants and adjust his gun before heading across the lawn to meet Bob. Unwilling to be left out of the conversation, Peggy shut off the water and hurried across the half-mown grass.

“Peggy.” Davis touched the brim of his hat and nodded in her direction. “I was just telling Bob it might be a good idea if the three of us sat down and talked.”

Peggy nodded in return, appreciating the fact that he wanted to include her.

Bob led the way to the patio, and Peggy was grateful she’d taken time that morning to sweep it off. The three of them sat at the round pine table Bob had built several years earlier. He’d painted it a deep gray-blue, a color that complemented the white siding. The striped umbrella was up and the patio was awash in sunshine.

“I thought I’d update you on my conversation with Hannah Russell.”

A couple of months earlier, after Max’s identity had been uncovered, his daughter had asked to meet with Bob and Peggy. It had been an uncomfortable meeting, but Peggy’s heart had ached for the young woman. She’d answered Hannah’s questions to the best of her ability.

For her part, there was little Hannah could tell them. All she knew was what her father had told her-he was taking a short trip, although he hadn’t divulged where. That was the last she’d heard. When he didn’t return to California, she’d filed a missing persons report with the police. A year had passed before she learned his fate.

“I feel so bad for her,” Peggy said. Hannah had lost her mother some time before and was now an orphan with no other family.

“She was pretty upset,” Troy admitted. “You can imagine how painful it was to learn her father was dead. But to discover he’d been murdered…” He shook his head.

“Did she have any idea who might’ve done this?”

“None,” Davis told them. “She asked me to thank you for your kindness. Talking with you helped her resolve in her own mind what happened to her father. Peggy, she mentioned the letter you wrote, and I could tell it meant a great deal to her.”

Peggy bit her lip. “How’s she getting on with her life?”

The sheriff hesitated. “I can’t really say. She said she no longer has any reason to stay in California and implied that she’s thinking of moving. I asked her to keep in touch and she promised she would.”

Peggy could understand the young woman’s feelings. With both of her parents gone, Hannah was rootless. Peggy sympathized with her desire to leave the area where she’d grown up, where she was surrounded by so many memories. Every place she turned, every place she looked, Hannah must be reminded of the parents she’d loved.

“What did you find out about Colonel Samuels?” Bob asked, eyes narrowed as he gazed at Troy Davis.

Stewart Samuels was the fourth man in Vietnam with Bob and Dan and Max. Peggy knew the sheriff had recently been in contact with him. The colonel had been cleared in Max’s murder, at least as far as Davis was concerned, but her husband obviously had doubts. While Bob and the other two were eager to be discharged, back in the early seventies, Samuels had stayed in the Army and risen through the ranks.

“At this point I don’t consider the colonel a suspect.”

“He’s some mucky-muck in Army Intelligence from what I hear,” Bob muttered, as if that should be motive enough.

“Who lives in the Washington D.C. area,” Sheriff Davis stated calmly. “I’ve had him checked out by a number of people. He’s highly respected. He’s been cooperative and willing to help in any way he can. Perhaps you should talk to him yourself, Bob.”

Her husband declined with a sharp shake of his head. Bob wanted as little to do with the past as possible. Coping with what had happened to Dan, who’d committed suicide, and to Max, had been hard enough. The less he had to think about the past, or its effect on the present, the better.

“Is Bob in danger?” Peggy asked bluntly. Her husband might prefer not to acknowledge the likelihood of a threat, but Peggy wanted a realistic assessment of their situation.

“I think he might be at risk,” the sheriff said quietly.

It wasn’t what Peggy had hoped to hear, but she was grateful for his frankness. They had to face the truth, however unpleasant, and take appropriate precautions.

“Nonsense,” Bob insisted. “If anyone wanted me dead, I’d be six feet under by now.”

Maybe, but Peggy wasn’t willing to take chances with her husband’s life.

“Why don’t we arrange an extended vacation?” she suggested. It’d been years since they’d been away from the bed-and-breakfast, and they could use a break.

“For how long?” Bob asked.

“Until the case is solved,” Peggy told him, pleading with her eyes. This wasn’t the time to put on a brave front-not in her opinion, anyway.

“No way.” Bob’s quick refusal shouldn’t have come as any surprise. He’d been quite content to live in denial. Denial and featherbeds! Someone had to point out the very real possibility that he was in danger and because he was, so was she.

“I’m not leaving Cedar Cove.”

“Now, Bob…”

“I won’t let anyone or anything drive me out of my own home.”

A chill shot up Peggy’s spine. “But-”

“No, Peg,” he said, and his face hardened with resolve. “How long are we supposed to stay away? One month? Two?” He paused. “More than that?”

It wasn’t a question Troy could answer.

“Max was found dead over a year ago. I was supposedly in danger then, right?”

Sheriff Davis exchanged a concerned look with Peggy. “I understand what you’re saying, but we didn’t know then what we know now.”

“I’m not running! I spent half my life running, and I won’t do it again. If somebody wants me dead, then so be it.”

Peggy gasped.

“I’m sorry, honey,” her husband said, stretching his arm across the table to clasp her fingers with his. “I refuse to live like that, looking over my shoulder all the time.”

“Then perhaps you could compromise,” Davis said. “There’s no need to invite someone into your home who might want to harm you.”

“What do you mean?” Bob leaned closer, his stomach pressed against the rounded edge of the pinewood table. Peggy realized that despite his defiant words he was afraid. His body language revealed what he was unwilling to admit.

“I don’t know how many reservations you have for the B and B, but I’d advise you to not take any more.”

“We can easily cancel the ones we have,” Peggy murmured. Any number of businesses in town would welcome the additional bookings.

Bob directed his gaze at Peggy. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

She swallowed and nodded.

Bob continued to look unsure, as if even this one concession was more than he felt inclined to make.

“I’ve been worried ever since Jack and Olivia’s wedding,” she whispered.

A week earlier, Bob had stood up as Jack Griffin’s best man. That was just a day or two before they’d learned Max Russell had been murdered.

“All right.” Bob’s voice was heavy with reluctance. “We’ll cancel the reservations.”

“No guests,” Peggy said.

“No guests,” he confirmed, “until this matter is settled once and for all.”

This was going to hurt financially, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was having the reassurance that her husband was safe.

“I’ll do what I can to solve this quickly,” Troy promised them.

Peggy could only wonder how long that would take.

Chapter Two

Cecilia Randall stood on the Navy pier and watched the aircraft carrier George Washington sail into Sinclair Inlet. After six months serving in the Persian Gulf, her husband, Ian, was finally home. Cecilia had often heard people talk about hearts swelling and dismissed the expression as exaggerated, sentimental. Now she knew what it meant, how it felt. Her heart swelled with love, pride and patriotism as the massive ship headed toward Bremerton.

The other Navy wives and hordes of friends and family crowded the pier. Colorful banners waved in the wind, along with Welcome Home signs. News helicopters from the Seattle television stations circled the area, taping the event for the five-o’clock broadcast. The joy and excitement around her was infectious, despite the dreary, cloudy day. Even the lead-gray skies and the threat of imminent rain didn’t dampen Cecilia’s mood. A band played in the background, and the American flag rippled in the breeze. It could have been a Norman Rockwell painting.

Cecilia’s dearest friends, two other Navy wives, Cathy Lackey and Carol Greendale, stood with her, each holding a toddler against her hip while madly waving. Cecilia hoped that before long she’d be a mother again herself.

“I think I see Andrew,” Cathy cried. She screeched with happiness and waved one arm wildly above her head. Then she pointed his daddy out to her young son.

Three thousand sailors, dressed in white Navy uniforms, stood along the rail, feet apart, hands behind their backs, as they lined the perimeter of the flight deck. At this distance it was impossible for Cecilia to find Ian. The wind whipped at her face and she shouted and waved. Perhaps Ian would see her.

“Take Amanda,” Carol said, heaving her three-year-old daughter toward Cecilia.

She gladly held the toddler. There’d been a time when even looking at this little girl brought her pain. Allison, Ian’s and her baby daughter, was born the same week as Amanda. Had she lived, Allison, too, would’ve been three years old. But she’d died after clinging to life for only a few days. Her death had ripped the marriage apart. If not for a wise family court judge who ignored convention and denied their divorce, they might have ended up like so many other sad marriage statistics.

“Ian, over here,” Cecilia shouted, as she thrust one arm high above her head. “Do you see your daddy?” she asked Amanda.

The little girl’s arms were tight around Cecilia’s neck, and she buried her face in Cecilia’s shoulder.

“There’s Daddy, there’s Daddy,” Carol said, pointing to the aircraft carrier.

Amanda looked up then, smiling, and Carol reached for her daughter again.

An eternity passed before the gangplank was lowered and the sailors disembarked, carrying their duffel bags. Soon there were reunions everywhere. Cathy spotted Andrew and ran toward her husband, weeping with happiness.

Cecilia searched frantically for Ian. Then she saw him, tall and fit and tan, his dark hair visible beneath his white Navy cap. The breath left her lungs at the sight of him and she burst into tears of joy.

Not a minute later, Cecilia was caught up in her husband’s arms. They clung to each other, tears still clouding her eyes as Ian brought his mouth to hers.

Their kiss was slow, sensual and filled with six months of longing and need. By the time they’d finished, Cecilia was weak and breathless. Ian was home; her world was complete once again. The universe could have dissolved around her and she wouldn’t have cared.

“I’ve missed you like crazy,” she whispered, holding on to him, her fingers massaging the nape of his neck. There was so much to say, so much that was in her heart. None of it mattered right then, however. All she cared about was the feel of Ian’s arms around her and the knowledge that he was home and safe and hers, if only on loan from the United States Navy.

“Oh, sweetheart, this has been the longest six months of my life.” He continued to hold her tight against him. Cecilia closed her eyes and savored this moment she’d been waiting for.

Ian had three days of shore leave and Cecilia planned to make full use of every one of them. The days-and the nights. His return couldn’t have been better planned. As far as she could tell, these next few days were her fertile period.

With his duffel bag over his shoulder, Ian reached for her hand as they walked toward the parking area. Apparently she still wasn’t close enough to suit him because he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to his side. He smiled and his love washed over her like…like warm sunshine. That was all she could compare it to, the life-giving warmth so absent today. A light drizzle had begun and they walked a little faster, still gazing at each other.

“I love you,” she mouthed.

“I can hardly wait to show you how much I love you.” Then, as if the question had only now occurred to him, he asked, “You don’t have to go back to work, do you?”

She toyed with the idea of letting him worry, but couldn’t make herself do it. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Cox gave me all three days off.” She handed Ian the car keys, and he promptly unlocked their vehicle.

“I like your boss more and more.”

Cecilia did, too, especially now that Mr. and Mrs. Cox had remarried. The office became a much more relaxed place once the couple reunited. But it wasn’t the Coxes on Cecilia’s mind as Ian drove to their duplex. They met each other’s eyes frequently but didn’t speak much. Ten minutes later they were home.

“Did you bring back everything I sent you?” Cecilia asked in a husky voice when Ian parked in their assigned spot. They’d moved into military housing just before his most recent deployment, when a unit became available.

“That was very sadistic of you, wife,” Ian said, his eyebrows drawing together.

Had she not known him so well, Cecilia might think he hadn’t been amused by her small prank. The gleam in his eyes told her otherwise. For each of the last three weeks before he was due home, Cecilia had sent him one piece of a sheer negligee outfit. With the last piece, she’d included a note that promised she’d wear it for him when he got back. In his last e-mail to her, she could almost hear him panting.

“I hope you realize you’ve created a monster with that little trick of yours.”

“A monster I’m eager to tame,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss him.

“Oh, honey…” He broke off the kiss. “Let’s get inside-fast.”

“Aye, aye,” she said dreamily, saluting him.

Ian slid out the driver’s side and dashed around the front of the car. He opened the passenger door, helped her out and grabbed his duffel bag from the back. Giggling with excitement, they ran through the light rain toward their duplex. Ian was all thumbs as he struggled to unlock their door.

Cecilia had cleaned the place until it sparkled. The sheets on their bed were fresh and turned down, the bedroom shades drawn. After six months of separation she’d known they wouldn’t want to wait to make love.

As soon as they got inside, Ian dropped his duffel and reached out for her. Cecilia came willingly, throwing her arms around his neck. He hoisted her up and headed directly for the bedroom. The second they cleared the door, Ian kissed her again, his mouth open and moist, moving urgently against hers.

He released her and immediately started undressing.

“You want me to put on that black nightie for you?” she asked.

“Next time,” Ian said, his breathing shallow as he sat on the bed and quickly removed his shoes.

“One more thing…”

He gave her a questioning glance.

She knelt behind him on the bed and rested her chin on his bare shoulder. “I think there’s something you should know.”

“It can’t wait?”

“Well, it could, but I figure this is something you might want to know.”

“What?” he growled, turning toward her. He grabbed her around the waist, and his dark eyes bore into hers.

Cecilia smiled at her husband, smoothing her hands down his muscular shoulders, loving the feel of him. “I’m thinking this afternoon would be a wonderful time to make a baby.”

Ian’s eyes flared briefly. “I thought you were on the pill.”

Her smile broadened as she slowly shook her head. “Not anymore. I tossed them into the garbage six months ago.”

He frowned.

“With you at sea, there wasn’t any need for me to be on birth control. Besides-”

“You didn’t start again when you knew I was coming home?”

“Nope.”

“But-but you knew when I was due back.”

“I did…and I’ve been greatly anticipating your homecoming,” she purred.

“But, sweetheart, you never said a word! I don’t have anything to protect you from pregnancy.”

“Who says I want protection? What I want, sailor man,” she whispered, “is a baby.”

Ian went completely still.

“Ian?”

Her husband straightened, sitting on the side of the bed with his back to her. “Don’t you think this is something we should’ve discussed first?”

“We’re…we’re discussing it now.”

“At the last possible moment.”

“You don’t want a baby?”

Ian stood then and faced her. His shoulders were bare and his pants half unzipped. He rubbed his hand over his eyes as if her question had overwhelmed him. “I do want children, but not yet.”

“I thought-”

“It’s too soon, sweetheart.”

“It’s been three years.” Her desire for a child had grown progressively stronger in the months Ian had been at sea. It made sense to complete her schooling before getting pregnant again, but she’d done that and found a wonderful job. “I’m ready, Ian.”

His shoulders sagged. “I’m not…I can’t risk getting you pregnant.” He zipped his pants and picked up his shirt, yanking it on and shoving his arms into the sleeves. He fastened the buttons with record speed and scooped the car keys from the dresser.

Cecilia bit her lip. He was right; she should’ve mentioned it earlier. They’d communicated almost daily via e-mail, and phone calls whenever possible. There’d been ample opportunity to discuss the matter long before his arrival home.

Ian walked out of the bedroom, then turned back at the door. “Stay right there,” he said, pointing in her direction.

“Where are you going?”

His laugh was weak with impatience. “To the drugstore. Stay where you are, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

It felt as if the sun had disappeared behind a dark cloud.

Perhaps, deep down, Cecilia had known this would be Ian’s reaction. Her husband was afraid of another pregnancy, afraid of what it would do to her physically and what it might do to them as a couple.

Cecilia understood why he felt that way because she’d faced those same fears herself. She’d believed-or wanted to believe-that Ian, too, had moved past them. Apparently she’d been wrong.

Chapter Three

With a sense of joy and celebration, Maryellen Sherman carried the heavy cardboard box out of her rental house and set it in the trunk of her car. Soon she’d be living with Jon Bowman-married to him.

After all this time it hardly seemed possible. The barriers between them had been lowered. No longer could she disguise her love for him. Nor did she have to; they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The misunderstandings were over, pride and anger put aside.

Jon followed with a second box, which he set next to the first. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, silently letting her know how pleased he was that they were finally going to be together for good.

Katie, their nine-month-old daughter, slept contentedly in her crib as they brought another load out to the car, then hurried back inside the house. Maryellen realized they only had a few more minutes of peace before their daughter woke. Most of her belongings weren’t even packed.

“That’s it for now?” Jon asked, hands on hips as he glanced around the living room.

“I’ll have more later,” she promised. Maryellen had barely started packing. She’d lived in this rental house for almost twelve years and what she’d accumulated in that length of time was staggering. Sorting through clothes and books-what to keep, what to give away or throw out-had already taken weeks.

“How much more?” A note of weariness entered Jon’s voice.

“Lots. Do you want to pack up a few boxes now?” She was thinking she should probably fill up the back seat of her car before they caravanned to his home.

“What I want is to get you permanently in my house.” He sounded as impatient as she felt.

“I’m just as eager to get there.” She stepped into the compact kitchen and tried to figure out what else they should take with them this afternoon. Moving had never seemed so complicated or frustrating.

“Did you talk to your mother about a wedding date?”

“She thinks Memorial Day is perfect.” Maryellen held back a smile. She suspected her mother was just plain relieved that she and Jon had actually decided to tie the knot. Since they already had a child together, a ceremony was long past due, in Grace Sherman’s opinion.

“You’re sure you don’t mind not having a big fancy wedding?”

Maryellen shook her head. She opened the refrigerator and took out a tall pitcher of iced tea. She’d had all the glamour and glitter with her first marriage. The wedding had been lovely, the marriage itself anything but. She’d been young and naive; the divorce, a year later, had left her reeling emotionally for a long time.

Twelve years after that, when she’d met Jon, she’d still been frightened of falling in love again. In the beginning, she’d spurned him, insulted him and did everything she could think of to keep him out of her life. She felt mortified now when she thought back on everything she’d said and done.

Jon got two glasses from the cupboard and set them on the counter. “You’re not getting any bargain in the husband department, you know?”

The anger that flared in her was too hot to be denied. “If you ever say that to me again, I swear I’ll…I’ll make you suffer.”

A smile briefly softened Jon’s sharp features. He wasn’t a handsome man. He was tall and long-limbed with dark hair and intense brown eyes. And he was quite possibly the most talented photographer she’d ever encountered. His work hung in one of the best Seattle galleries and his name was fast gaining recognition.

“You know everything now,” he said and lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.

“You know everything about me, too,” she reminded him.

They both had their secrets, painful bits and pieces from their pasts. Now they had each other and, for the first time since her divorce, Maryellen felt she could heal the unresolved griefs of that marriage. She knew it was their pasts that had kept them apart. Despite everything, they’d been drawn toward each other from the very beginning, but the secrets they’d so desperately wanted to hide had almost torn them apart.

“You’re not the one with a prison record,” Jon muttered.

Clasping his hand, Maryellen raised it to her lips. “I consider it one of my life’s greatest blessings that I’ll be your wife. Until I met you I was in prison, too-a prison of my own making.” That might sound melodramatic, but she meant every word.

His smile was enough to brighten the kitchen, and she slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face against him. “The truth is, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His arms tightened around her as she felt a sigh rumble through his chest. “It’s a little silly, don’t you think, you living here until after the wedding?”

“Perhaps, but I prefer to wait.” Maryellen had made too many mistakes, and with this marriage, she wanted to do everything right. When she came to him on their wedding night, she wanted it to be special.

“We have a child together, so it’s not as if…” His voice trailed off.

She tilted her head to look up at him, unsure how to say what was in her heart. “Do you mind terribly much?”

“I mind like hell, but I can wait if it means that much to you.”

She nodded and then kissed his jaw to let him know she appreciated his patience. Jon tangled his fingers in her dark hair as he pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted his passion and his desire, and her resolve weakened. This was all so new and exciting. Their physical need for each other had always been explosive, their hunger undeniable.

Suddenly Katie let out a wail from the back bedroom. Jon sighed and broke off the kiss.

By the time Maryellen reached Katie’s room, her daughter was standing up in her crib, both arms raised to her mother. Maryellen lifted her out and, after changing Katie’s diaper, carried her into the kitchen and placed her in the high chair. Her afternoon snack of juice and an arrowroot cracker was already waiting for her.

Awake now and in a good mood, Katie grabbed her juice cup and eagerly brought it to her mouth. She took a noisy slurp, then banged the cup against the plastic tray.

“Every time I look at her, I feel a sense of wonder,” Jon said and squatted down so he was eye-level with his daughter. “You’re Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?”

Katie rewarded him with a broad four-tooth grin.

Jon automatically retrieved his camera from the counter and started snapping pictures.

“Jon.” Maryellen laughed, unable to stop herself. He was so predictable. When she’d first begun working with him at the Harbor Street Art Gallery, he’d asked her out a dozen times. Maryellen had refused all his invitations. She hadn’t wanted a man in her life. Later she’d succumbed-and soon afterward she’d discovered to her shock that she was pregnant. She’d made every effort to keep Jon out of her child’s life. And hers…

Like a lot of other women, she’d chosen to be a single mother. Not until Katie was born had she come to realize how much her daughter needed a father and how much she herself wanted and needed Jon’s help in rearing their child. Then it seemed too late. While Jon obviously loved their daughter, he wanted little or nothing to do with her.

When he’d finished taking photographs of Katie, Jon focused the camera on her. Before Maryellen could react he’d snapped several pictures. When he’d first turned his camera on her, early in their relationship, she’d felt both self-conscious and flattered; now she simply trusted him, never protesting when he aimed his Nikon at her, no matter how unexpected the moment might be. In many ways Jon was most comfortable behind the camera’s lens. It was through photography that he revealed his personality and emotions.

“I want you and Katie with me as soon as possible,” he said when he’d rewound the film and removed the cartridge.

“It won’t be long. Two weeks.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to change his mind. “We’ve waited this long, I don’t suppose another two weeks will kill me.”

“The anticipation is half the pleasure.”

He growled something she couldn’t decipher. She could guess, though, and it made her smile.

“I thought we could ask Pastor Flemming to officiate.” Maryellen didn’t attend church regularly, but her mother’s best friend, Olivia Lockhart, had recently married Jack Griffin, and the Methodist minister had performed the ceremony. She’d found it deeply moving.

“What about Judge Lockhart-or Griffin, I guess?”

“She’s using both names,” Maryellen said.

Jon nodded.

“I-I’d like a religious service.” Olivia was a longtime family friend, but Maryellen had already decided against a civil wedding. When she spoke her vows, she was committing herself, before God and the community, to love Jon for the rest of her life.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “You want to be married in a church? You’re sure?”

“Either at the Methodist Church or perhaps on your property, if that’s all right?” Jon had inherited the land from his grandfather and had built a beautiful two-story house there. The acreage overlooked Puget Sound, with Mount Rainier as a backdrop.

“It’s fine,” he said. “What about the reception?”

“At the house, too.” All at once she wondered if she was asking too much of him. “I don’t imagine we’ll have many guests, just family and a few friends. All we’d need to serve is wedding cake and champagne. If the weather cooperates, we could be married outside.” With the rhododendrons, many of which grew wild on the property, and the azaleas in bloom, the place would be stunning.

He nodded. “Perhaps we should serve a few hors d’oeuvres. I can easily prepare them a day or two before.”

“Jon…”

“A friend of mine can do the pictures, but I want to take the ones of you myself.”

Maryellen could tell he was warming to the subject of their wedding. “Can we put all this together in two weeks?” she asked.

Jon didn’t hesitate. “Of course we can.” At her delighted smile, he added, “Any other requests?”

She had one, but wasn’t sure how to ask.

“What?” The question was wary, as if he sensed her mood.

“The guest list…”

“How many?”

“It’s not the number. Mom and my sister and a few friends, but there are a couple of people I’d like to invite and I don’t know if you’d approve.”

Katie squealed and dropped the heavy-bottomed cup on her tray.

Jon kissed Maryellen’s temple. “You know there’s almost nothing I can refuse you. Who do you want to invite?”

She leaned into him, not wanting to see his face when she told him. “Your father and stepmother.” Jon had only recently revealed how his parents had chosen to protect his younger brother at his expense. They had lied on the witness stand and, as a result, Jon had been convicted of dealing drugs. He’d served seven years in prison. Not once in all those years or the years since had he spoken to either his father or his stepmother.

Jon tensed and slowly released Maryellen. “No. They are no longer part of my life. They cast me aside and-”

“You’re all they have left.” His brother had died a tragic death and Maryellen was convinced that his family regretted what they’d done, both in betraying Jon and in not forcing his brother to face the consequences of his crime.

Jon clasped her shoulders hard, almost hurting her with the fervor of his emotions. “We will never speak of this again, understand? I have no family other than you and Katie.” Taking a shuddery breath, he let her go.

She wanted to argue and longed to help heal the relationship between Jon and his family, but she could see he wasn’t ready. His parents had a granddaughter they knew nothing about. Surely that was an opportunity for new beginnings. Still, it wasn’t Maryellen’s place to step in, especially since Jon’s feelings on the subject were this adamant.

“What about a honeymoon?” Jon asked. “Nothing fancy, but someplace we can get away for a night or two.”

“You want a honeymoon?” Maryellen had been so involved with plans for her move and for the actual wedding, she hadn’t given a honeymoon any thought.

“Damn straight I want a honeymoon.”

“What about Thyme and Tide?” Bob and Peggy Beldon’s bed-and-breakfast was said to be the best in town.

Jon shook his head. “I already looked into that, but they aren’t taking guests until this murder is solved.”

“Oh…” That was a disappointment.

“How about a night in Seattle? Just the two of us. Your mother will take Katie, won’t she?”

Maryellen laughed softly. “In a heartbeat.”

“Seattle, then?”

Maryellen nodded.

“The honeymoon will be the very best part.” Jon kissed her nose, and Katie giggled as if she’d never seen anything funnier. “That amuses you, does it?” Jon said, smiling. “I guess I see your point.”

“We’re going to have a beautiful wedding,” Maryellen said with certainty. The prospect of it made this chaos of packing and moving seem worthwhile. Within a couple of weeks she’d be Jon’s wife. The three of them would be a family.

Chapter Four

Charlotte Jefferson dressed nervously for her court appearance. She’d spent many an afternoon in the Kitsap County Courthouse, proudly watching her only daughter officiate as a family court judge. In Charlotte’s opinion, her daughter was one of the wisest judges in the entire state. She got a thrill just watching Olivia mete out decisions, looking so official in her black robe.

This afternoon, however, Charlotte wouldn’t be in Olivia’s courtroom but in Judge Robson’s. She wouldn’t be alone, either. Together with several of her dearest friends, she’d be facing the consequences of civil disobedience. Still, serving time in the slammer, if it came to that, would be a small price to pay if her actions got the town council to finally bring a health clinic to Cedar Cove.

Laura, Bess and the others, including Ben Rhodes, were scheduled to meet her in the foyer outside Judge Robson’s courtroom at one o’clock.

Charlotte donned her best Sunday dress, complete with the Easter hat she’d purchased back in 1966. It was a broadbrimmed yellow one with a single white plume tucked in the satin band. If Judge Robson decided to incarcerate her and the others, she intended to walk into that jail cell as finely dressed as she would’ve been for any church service.

Olivia and Jack didn’t seem to think a prison term was likely, but Charlotte had heard rumors about Judge Robson. He was supposed to be much more by-the-book than Olivia, more of a hard-liner, and-again according to rumor-fond of making an example of the occasional miscreant.

The doorbell chimed and Harry, her cat, leapt down from the foot of her bed with an uncharacteristic display of energy and trotted into the living room. Since Olivia and Jack were out of town on their honeymoon, Charlotte wondered who it might be. Embarrassment had prevented her from asking Justine, her granddaughter, to accompany her. Olivia, of course, was well aware of the entire situation, unhappily so. But Charlotte refused to let the rest of her family and friends know, although it was impossible to keep such news completely quiet.

The peephole in the front door answered her question. Ben Rhodes stood on the other side, looking as dapper and debonair as ever. Despite her age, her heart did a tiny flipflop at the sight of him. After all these years as a widow, she’d assumed she was too old and set in her ways to fall in love, but Ben had shown her that even long-held assumptions could be wrong.

“Ben!” She unbolted the four dead bolt locks on her front door. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, although she was more than glad to see him. “We’re supposed to meet at the courthouse, remember?”

“I know, but I thought I’d escort my favorite gal into court. Are you ready?”

Charlotte straightened the skirt of her floral dress, feeling, for just a second, like the heroine in a 1950s musical. Ben made the whole mess seem like an adventure rather than a scandal-or worse. “How do I look?”

A smile lazily crossed Ben’s full mouth. At times it was difficult to forget that he wasn’t really Cesar Romero, the wonderful Cuban actor. In her opinion, Ben could have been the other man’s double. “You look lovely,” he told her.

But adventure or not, Charlotte couldn’t quite control her nervousness. “Oh, dear…I just don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

Ben gently patted her hand. “I don’t believe the council wants that kind of negative publicity. I can just imagine what the Seattle newspapers would say about a town punishing a handful of senior citizens because we were demonstrating for health care.”

“Unlawful assembly,” Charlotte muttered under her breath. “I, for one, am willing to serve my time if that’s what it takes to wake this town up.” Just being with Ben strengthened her resolve. He made her feel brave, helped her stand up for her principles and act on the power of her convictions.

“I completely agree with you. However…” He hesitated and then forcefully expelled his breath. “I don’t think we need to worry about serving jail time. We’ll probably just be fined.”

Charlotte just couldn’t be sure. She was worried, especially considering Judge Robson’s reputation. Would she be viewed as the ringleader? She felt particularly anxious about her friends, who’d stood loyally by her when she defied Sheriff Davis.

“I’ve hired an attorney,” Ben informed her. Earlier Ben had agreed to represent them in court, but apparently he’d changed his mind.

Charlotte hadn’t wanted to involve lawyers. For one thing, they charged an arm and a leg, and for another, whatever lawyer Ben had chosen was bound to say something to Olivia when she returned. Charlotte wanted Olivia to know as little as possible, difficult though that would be. She’d hoped to hold down the gossip.

“Sharon Castor said she’d meet us at the courthouse.”

“Not Sharon Castor,” Charlotte cried. The attorney was frequently in Olivia’s courtroom. In fact, Sharon had recently represented Rosemary Cox in her divorce case. Charlotte had been present when her daughter had handed down one of her most controversial joint-custody decisions-a decision that, Charlotte believed, had led to the couple’s reconciliation.

“Oh, dear,” she said and sighed. “We might as well go.” She went into the bedroom for her overnight case, which contained her medications and night cream, and reached for her jacket. Just in case…The day was cool, and from everything she’d read, jail cells were notoriously drafty. She glanced around her bedroom one last time. Once she’d received her sentence, if the worst happened, she’d contact Justine and ask her to take care of Harry.

“Charlotte,” Ben said, shaking his head as she entered the living room. “You aren’t going to need a suitcase.”

“Don’t be so sure,” she countered grimly. “Suppose Judge Robson decides to make an example of me. I want to be ready.” She’d long been a believer in preparing for the worst-and hoping for the best.

Ben tried to argue with her, but she refused to change her mind. In the end, he placed her suitcase in the trunk of his car.

When they arrived at the courthouse, Helen, Laura and Bess were already gathered in the foyer outside Judge Robson’s courtroom. The three women rushed frantically to Charlotte’s side.

“I’m telling you right now, no one’s going to do a body search on me and live to tell about it,” Bess declared. She raised her hands in the familiar karate posture. Their entire Senior Center had taken self-defense lessons a few years back and Bess had faithfully attended every class.

“Have you been watching those Karate Kid videos again?” Charlotte muttered.

Bess glared at her. “I’m not joking, Charlotte.”

“Do you think the judge will let us bring our knitting needles into jail?” Laura asked. “If you want the truth, I have several Christmas projects I’d like to start and frankly I could make good use of the downtime.”

Just as Charlotte began to reply, Sharon Castor strolled up to Ben. “This is everyone?” she asked.

Ben nodded.

“Ben’s hired us legal representation,” Charlotte whispered to her friends. “He seems to think all the judge will do is fine us.”

“That’s all?” Laura sounded disappointed. “I was looking forward to prison.”

In contrast, Bess folded her hands together and raised her eyes toward heaven. “God bless Ben.”

Charlotte had to admit she was grateful not to have this entire matter fall upon her shoulders. She was the one who’d led her friends into trouble, and she felt responsible for whatever befell them as a result.

“We’re up next,” Sharon Castor announced. “Let’s go into the courtroom together.”

Charlotte adjusted her hat. Ben took her hand and the small party walked into the courtroom. Sharon was in the lead, with Bess, Helen and Laura marching right behind her, and Charlotte and Ben bringing up the rear.

To Charlotte’s astonishment, the courtroom was packed-standing room only. The first people to catch her attention were Bob and Peggy Beldon from the Thyme and Tide bed-and-breakfast.

“We’re with you, Charlotte,” Peggy called out.

Justine and her husband, Seth, were there, too. Seth held on to Leif, who was almost two years old. The toddler squirmed in his father’s arms, but stilled when he saw Charlotte. Justine waved, and Charlotte’s eyes blurred with tears, which she furiously blinked back. It seemed half the town had shown up to offer them support.

Enjoying their celebrity status, Bess and Helen waved as if they were prom queens walking in a Fourth of July parade.

“Did you know about this?” Charlotte asked, glancing up at Ben who stood a full head taller than her five foot three.

“Not at all,” he confessed, looking around. “Even Troy Davis is here.”

The sheriff who’d arrested them had turned up in court to support their efforts now. Charlotte had always been fond of Troy and was willing to forgive his error in judgment. Then again, the dear boy had no choice but to arrest them when they’d declined to break up their demonstration and disperse. He’d sworn to uphold the law, whether he agreed with it or not. His presence this afternoon made his personal feelings very clear.

“Roy and Corrie McAfee are here, too,” Ben whispered.

The McAfees were recent additions to the Cedar Cove community. Roy was a former Seattle police detective who’d retired in Cedar Cove and opened his own agency as a private investigator.

Grace Sherman stepped up to Charlotte and gave her a hug. “Olivia asked me to stop by this afternoon,” Grace said close to Charlotte’s ear. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I invited a few library patrons to give you their support.”

Charlotte squeezed Grace’s hand. Grace and Olivia had been best friends nearly their entire lives. How like Olivia to ask Grace to fill in for her this afternoon, since she couldn’t be in court herself. For a very good reason, mind you, one Charlotte fully approved of. Olivia and Jack were in Hawaii on their honeymoon.

The door at the back of the courtroom opened and in walked Maryellen Sherman, who found a seat next to her mother. Jon Bowman was with her, Katie balanced on his hip. Charlotte had taken a liking to the photographer and was pleased to hear those two would soon be married. High time, in her opinion, not that anyone had asked.

“The court will come to order,” the bailiff announced. “Judge Robson presiding.”

The judge emerged from his chambers and took his seat at the front of the courtroom.

Despite Ben’s reassurances, Charlotte’s pulse fluctuated wildly before taking up a steady beat again. This might not be pretty. Until she was asked to stand with her friends while the charges were being read, Charlotte didn’t realize how frightened she was. Between Bess practicing her karate moves and Laura looking forward to knitting in jail, Charlotte wasn’t sure what to expect.

Sharon Castor handled the situation in a most professional manner, Charlotte thought, her estimation of the attorney rising considerably.

“Your Honor,” she said, moving halfway to the bench. “Look at this group of law-breakers and tell me what you see.”

“Ms. Castor,” Judge Robson said. He continued to scan the charges. “Unlawful assembly, refusing to disband-”

“Yes, Your Honor, but my clients were making a statement-a statement they felt could only be made in this manner. They feel Cedar Cove needs a health clinic and I, for one, agree with them.”

“Then they should have approached the council.”

“Which I did, Your Honor.” Charlotte spoke before she could stop herself. “I beg your pardon, Judge Robson,” she said, feeling she couldn’t let her nerve fail her now. “Both Mr. Rhodes and I attended several council meetings, but to no avail. Mayor Benson said there are no funds to establish a health clinic, but-”

“This isn’t the time to discuss the merits of a medical clinic in Cedar Cove.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Charlotte murmured, properly chastised. Ben gave her an encouraging smile.

The prosecutor in the case seemed disinclined to send them to jail, Charlotte noted gratefully. He made a few comments and sat back down. Sharon Castor was on her feet again.

“You can save your breath, Ms. Castor. I’ve made my decision.”

The attorney slowly sat down.

“It appears to me that the five of you were trying to make public your case for a health clinic.”

Charlotte nodded and noticed the others did, too.

“Your plan has apparently worked. Half the town is here to support you. If anyone from council is in attendance, I sincerely hope they are taking detailed notes. I don’t see that anything useful will be served by fining five senior citizens who were on a mission to make Cedar Cove a better place. If I could have your word of honor that you will not assemble again without the necessary permit, then I’d be willing to dismiss all charges.”

Charlotte and the others were quick to comply.

As soon as the charges were dismissed, the courtroom erupted into applause. As they walked out, Charlotte and her friends were given a heroes’ reception. They were free, one and all.

Before they left the courthouse, Charlotte and Ben personally thanked Sharon and every person who’d come to their support. She was astonished their case had generated so much interest in the community. All this time Charlotte hadn’t spoken about her court date because she didn’t want to bother her family or friends with her problems. It was a strong affirmation of the community’s affection and respect that so many people were there today.

Ben drove her back to the house. “I had no idea all those people knew about this,” she told him as he held the car door for her.

“I didn’t, either,” Ben said.

“I suspect it was Grace who rallied everyone on our behalf.”

“The next time I’m in the library, I’m going to thank her all over again.”

“I will, too.” Charlotte had every intention of letting Olivia know what a wonderful job Grace had done.

“You are much loved in this community, Charlotte Jefferson,” Ben said as they mounted her front-porch steps. He carried her small suitcase, which he’d remembered to remove from the trunk.

“I am honored so many of my friends took time out of their busy days and came to court,” she murmured, still a little overwhelmed.

“There’s someone else you should include on the list of people who love you,” Ben said. He sat down on the porch swing while she rummaged in her large purse, searching for the house keys.

“And who would that be?” she asked, thinking she might have stuck the key chain in her overnight bag.

“That would be me.”

Charlotte froze. Ben had just declared his love-or so it seemed-and at the most ridiculous of times. She turned to face him. “Are you saying you’re in love with me, Ben Rhodes?”

“I am.” He looked at her directly, meeting her eyes. “The fact is, Charlotte, I’m wondering if you share my feelings.”

He didn’t know? He hadn’t guessed? This was indeed news. With her keys clenched in her hands, she triumphantly lifted them from her purse. “As a matter of fact, I’m head over heels in love with you and have been for quite a while,” she said bluntly. Having admitted her feelings, she blushed and quickly added, “Would you care for a glass of lemonade to celebrate our victory?” She opened the front door.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ben followed her into the house. “I just might steal a kiss while I’m at it.”

“And I just might let you,” Charlotte said with a smile.