The Novel Free

50 Harbor Street





“What’s going on between Cal and the McAfees’daughter?” Grace asked in a low voice, leaning toward her husband.



“I don’t know,” Cliff answered. Their eyes met above the menu and Cliff raised his eyebrows. “I asked Cal the other day and he pretended not to hear. I guess he doesn’t want to tell me. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s a very private person.”



“I thought he wasn’t interested in Linnette.”



Cliff shrugged. “That’s what he’s been saying for months, but from all appearances, his feelings have changed—a lot.”



Grace didn’t see much of Cal these days. By the time she left the ranch to drive into Cedar Cove, he was already busy with the horses, either in the barn or one of the pastures. In the evenings, Cal gave the newlyweds their privacy. Grace hadn’t said more than a few words to him in the two and a half weeks since they’d returned to the ranch.



“Judging by the way he’s acting, I’d say he’s in love,” Cliff said in a low voice.



“What makes you so sure?” Grace asked, although she shared his suspicion.



Cliff’s mouth twitched. “Cal Washburn walks around with a dopey look most of the time.” He hesitated, and a smile lit up his face. “As a matter of fact, so do I.”



Her husband’s words warmed her heart. “Me, too,” she whispered. “Me, too, Cliff.”



Cliff set aside his menu and reached across the table for her hand. She was grateful he’d read her mood so accurately. She needed this time just for them, in a place that was neutral, that wasn’t her house or his.



Seeing that they were ready to order, the waitress hurried to the table, pad in hand. Grace chose the halibut in shrimp curry sauce, and Cliff asked for a T-bone steak.



Both dishes were excellent. Grace was thrilled that Cedar Cove had such an outstanding restaurant. She was proud of Justine and Seth and the success they’d made of this enterprise. Having worked as a commercial fisherman, Seth knew good fish and seafood, and served only the freshest. She could see that owning a restaurant was demanding, but so far the couple’s marriage seemed to be withstanding the pressures. Grace hoped that wouldn’t change.



When they’d finished, Cliff paid their bill. “Ready to leave?” he asked.



Grace told him she was. While Cliff retrieved her coat, she saw that Cal and Linnette were lingering over coffee; Grace smiled at them but they were completely absorbed in each other.



In the parking lot, where she and Cliff had both left their vehicles, he insisted on checking her car. She followed him home, arriving a minute or two after him. He waited for her outside the house while she parked in the space he’d cleared in the garage. When she joined him, Cliff placed one arm around her shoulders. Yawning, he covered his mouth with the other hand.



“Is that a hint, Cliff Harding?” she teased and playfully elbowed him in the ribs. He had a vigorous sexual appetite, although they were still a bit shy with each other. She knew exactly what he meant—he wanted to go to bed…and not because he was tired.



“Well, I guess you could say so.”



She laughed and slipped her arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s late, isn’t it? We should’ve been in bed hours ago.”



“Yes—extremely late. So we’d better get a move on.”



Grace smiled to herself. After all, she wanted the same thing her husband did.



Forty-Seven



Cecilia woke from a sound sleep at Aaron’s first cry. She groaned inwardly and glanced at the clock-radio on the nightstand—4:10 a.m. It’d been four hours since she’d last nursed. Aaron was hungry again and he wouldn’t return to sleep until he’d been fed.



Ian rolled over when she climbed out of bed. “Need any help?” he asked sleepily.



“No thanks, sweetheart.” It wasn’t as if her husband could give Aaron his breakfast. Breast-feeding was a new experience; she’d never had the opportunity to nurse Allison. She’d pumped her breasts, wanting to believe that her milk would somehow provide the sustenance to pull Allison through her medical crisis. Sadly, it hadn’t.



Carefully lifting Aaron from his crib, she shushed the newborn, who was crying hard enough to wake the neighbors. Cecilia soothed him with gentle whispers as she changed his diaper and settled in the living room rocker. Singing softly to him, she unbuttoned the front of her nightgown and gave a slight gasp when her hungry son latched onto her nipple.



Ian’s barely discernible laugh caught her attention. “I have a strong son,” he said, walking into the room. He was barefoot and wore only the bottom half of his pajamas.



While Cecilia rocked and nursed the baby, Ian sat across from her.



“You don’t need to get out of bed for this,” she felt obliged to tell him.



“I know. I wanted to. It’s been two weeks now, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you nurse our son.”



She brushed the tiny wisps of hair away from Aaron’s sweet face and gazed down at him in utter amazement as tiny milk bubbles formed at his mouth.



“From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were beautiful,” Ian whispered.



“Oh, honey, stop.” His compliments embarrassed her.



“You were,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right this minute.”



His words filled her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered.



He seemed about to say something else, but paused, as if caught up in the emotion of the moment. After a while he said, “I’ve been thinking about us finding a house to rent. Maybe with an option to buy.”



She smiled at him quickly. “I’d like that. Where?”



Ian shrugged. “Cedar Cove. I want our son to have a real yard to play in and a neighborhood with other families, other kids. Living in a duplex is fine for you and me, but we have a baby now who’ll need room to grow. What do you think?”



“Let’s start looking today!”



“I’ll check with a rental agent to see what we can find.”



Cecilia nodded, excited by the idea.



As soon as Aaron was satisfied, he fell asleep. Holding him over her shoulder, Cecilia rocked for several minutes until she felt she could place him in his crib again without fear of waking him.



Ian crawled into bed and pulled aside the covers so she could join him. Cecilia curled up against her husband, but after a few minutes, she shifted away in an effort to get comfortable. Ten minutes later she was back.



“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Ian suggested when her restlessness didn’t end.



“I don’t want to keep you awake,” she protested.



“It’s either you talk or you wake me every time you roll from one side to the other. I might be on leave, but I still need my sleep.”



“Sorry.”



“Talk,” he insisted.



“It’s Allison Cox,” Cecilia said reluctantly. She hadn’t intended to mention this to Ian, but the girl had been in her thoughts ever since yesterday afternoon, when she’d stopped by the house to visit Aaron. Allison had confided in her and spent the better part of the afternoon unburdening her woes.



“I know you’re not too keen on this new boyfriend of hers.”



“No,” Cecilia murmured. “I’m not.”



“She isn’t planning to run away and marry him, is she?” Ian asked in a sleepy voice.



“Not that I know of.” But Cecilia was afraid that whatever Anson requested, Allison would do.



“Then it can’t be too serious.”



“Don’t bet on it.” Cecilia nestled more comfortably in the crook of her husband’s arm. “I’m telling you, Ian—this kid is trouble.”



“Is he hanging around Allison a lot?”



“Apparently not. He had some sort of confrontation with her recently and she hasn’t seen him since.” Cecilia paused, biting her lip. “He hasn’t shown up for school, either, which worries her.”



“Did she try to find out where he is?”



“I asked her, and she started to cry.”



“And?” Ian pressed when she didn’t immediately continue.



“According to Allison, Anson’s mother claims she hadn’t seen him for a few days, which she doesn’t happen to think is any big deal. Can you imagine that? Anson’s eighteen now, but it shouldn’t matter what age he is. If he’s living at home and he disappears, then the woman should be concerned.”



“Surely he has friends.”



“Allison says he runs with a rough crowd.” This didn’t surprise Cecilia; kids like Anson and his buddies weren’t the type of friends she wanted Allison to have, but she dared not let the girl know that.



“Hasn’t anyone checked with these guys?”



“I suspect Allison has. But if she found out anything, she didn’t say.”



Ian was silent after that.



“Allison’s really worried, and I don’t blame her. She asked her father to talk to Seth Gunderson.”



“About what?”



Cecilia realized she’d never filled in this part of the story for Ian. “Back in December, Mr. Cox spoke to Seth on Anson’s behalf.”



“That was good of him.”



“Mr. Cox was the one who recommended Anson for the job, so he feels responsible for what happened. He wanted to hear what Seth had to say.”



“What did he learn?”



This was where it became confusing for Cecilia. “Well, Mr. Gunderson said he wasn’t a hundred percent positive that it was Anson who took the money, and because he couldn’t be sure, he laid off another of the kitchen staff, too. Both had opportunity. Naturally, Allison believes the other guy did it. She says this Tony was out to get Anson because he made Tony look bad.”



“How?”



Cecilia gave a small shrug. “Supposedly because Anson was such a hard worker.”



“That certainly gave Tony a motive, didn’t it? And Anson, too—if he thinks Tony’s been on his case, maybe spreading rumors about him.”



“That’s exactly what I figured,” Cecilia agreed. She couldn’t blame Seth Gunderson for laying off Anson. He had the motive, the opportunity and the reputation.



Her husband was quiet for several minutes. “That’s all true,” he finally said, “and I wouldn’t totally rule him out, but in my opinion, the kid’s gotten a bad break.”



“He isn’t right for Allison,” Cecilia insisted.



Ian was quiet again, and then he said, “You know, I’m glad you didn’t listen to the people who told you it was a mistake to go out with a Navy guy.”



“Oh, Ian.” She turned into his embrace. “I’m glad, too.”



She was. Not only that, her husband had given her something to think about.



Forty-Eight



Rachel laughed at Jane’s joke as they walked out to the parking lot after work on Saturday. It was the shop’s busiest day and she’d been on her feet for almost ten hours; she was exhausted. Laughter was a good release, even if the joke had been silly and a little off-color.
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