Epilogue

 

Four weeks later

 

The meeting room at St. Peter’s Church in Spy Hill buzzed with quiet tension. Perched on the edge of a folding metal chair, Claire gripped Ry’s hand and kept studying Carling Middleton’s stone-cold features for any sign of how the vote had turned out. Seated on the dais and flanked by the other four members of the PIHA executive board, Middleton stared straight out at the audience of thirty-five island residents.

Well, there were actually thirty-four island residents, to be exact. Claire didn’t include herself among them yet, despite having spent almost every night for the past four weeks at Ry’s house. She’d even moved some clothes into his closet, which was getting pretty close to resident status as far as she was concerned. Ry had made it clear in both word and deed that he wanted her in his bed every night, and she certainly wasn’t about to protest. Her problem was that she never wanted to get out of bed when she was with him.

It had been an amazing month. Nothing could have prepared her for the deep, quiet satisfaction of waking up next to the man she loved, and then softly padding down the familiar stairs of her old house, Stanley in tow, to make coffee. Cup in hand, she’d head to the living room and gaze out as the sun slowly rose over her beloved bay. The fact that the house was going to be renovated, not bulldozed, still seemed like a miracle of epic proportions.

The biggest miracle of all was that Ry told her every day that he loved her. And Claire had told him every day that she loved him even more. That silly little competition gave them a laugh but also underscored the joy that had changed her life.

And she was actually making progress with her phobia. She’d managed three more short trips on the back of the Harley and had shocked herself by taking a slightly wobbly circuit around the property on his smallest motorbike. Maybe because that smooth little engine sounded nothing like the deafening roar she was accustomed to from the Harley—or the motorcycle that had hurtled into her and Julie—she’d found it to be…well, kind of fun.

Even more importantly, she’d held it together last weekend when he was off at his first post-accident race. She hadn’t gone with him to Massachusetts. He hadn’t asked, clearly knowing she wasn’t ready for that kind of pressure. But while he was gone, she hadn’t cowered indoors with Stanley either. Every time tendrils of panic started to crawl over her skin, she’d taken the dog for a long walk or hauled her easel out to the bluffs to paint.

Mostly, she’d tried to be mindful of all the blessings in her life. So far, it seemed to be working.

“Looks like they’re getting ready,” Ry murmured in her ear.

It was going to be an exciting night no matter what happened with the vote. Ry had suggested—insisted, really—that they drive to Portland right after the vote was announced. He’d booked a suite at the Danforth Inn and made reservations for a late dinner at her favorite seafood restaurant, DeMillo’s. His logic was that they’d either need to celebrate the victory or try to have fun and not think about the defeat. She was totally down with that plan. Stanley was staying with Meg, and their overnight bags were packed and waiting in Ry’s truck.

Only Promise Island residents had been invited to this special meeting where the results of the vote on the gating proposal would be revealed. At least two hundred other people milled around in the church courtyard though. Beth Brocklebank, barred from covering the meeting despite her vigorous protests about “press freedom,” had parked herself on the steps of the church hall, camera in hand. Pam and Tammy were there too, along with Meg, Cassidy, Anson, the three Pierce brothers, Sylvie, and dozens of other friends. They were all keeping their fingers crossed that the anti-gating campaign led by Ry, Derek, and Jane and a couple of other Promise Island residents would prove successful. Claire’s mom had wanted to come but hadn’t been able to switch shifts at the diner.

When Middleton cleared her throat, the room went instantly silent. Ry squeezed Claire’s hand. “No matter what happens, you and I are good, right?” he said.

“No matter what,” she whispered. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“You’d better,” he said with a grin.

“Thank you all for coming out this evening,” Middleton said, looking regal in a blue suit with a high collar. “As everyone knows, your PIHA executive believed the time had come to do something to ensure that island residents are able to enjoy the kind of privacy we want and deserve. Our proposal for a gated community was not one we made lightly, but it was one we deeply believed to be in the best interests of our homeowners. Of course, we also expected that it would likely engender opposition and even some hostility around Brides Bay, and it did.”

“You got that part right,” Ry muttered.

“What we didn’t count on,” Middleton continued, “was the level of opposition we encountered from within our own members.” She stared daggers at Ry and Claire. Derek and Jane were sitting directly behind them, so the laser glare was probably hitting them too. “We certainly didn’t want to see the residents of our lovely island divided on the issue.”

Murmurs of agreement spread around the room.

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened,” Middleton added in a grumpy tone.

At that moment, Claire was pretty confident that the gate proposal had been defeated. The president would surely have declared victory by now if the results had gone her way.

“In any case,” Middleton said, “I’m sorry to say that when all the votes were counted, the proposal to restrict entry onto the island failed to receive majority support.”

His face impassive, Ry squeezed Claire’s hand again. They both knew it was best not to crow about the victory.

“The executive therefore considers this particular matter closed,” the president said. “However, you can rest assured that we will continue to look into all possible ways to make the island more secure. We will do whatever it takes to protect the privacy of our neighbors and ourselves.”

“What were the actual numbers, Carling?” a man near the back asked in a loud voice. “Was it close?”

“It couldn’t have been any closer, Arthur. There were twenty votes in favor and twenty-one against.”

“Wow,” Ry said softly. “We only made it by one lousy vote.”

“One is all it takes,” Claire said. “And she just said the gate issue is closed, so let’s be happy.”

“Hell, I’m super happy. But I’ll be even happier when I have you all to myself tonight in the city.” He gave her a lecherous look and then stood, pulling her up with him.

They’d agreed earlier to leave the meeting as soon as the vote was announced. Claire wanted to be the one to break the news to her people outside, good or bad.

They hurried to the door, followed by Jane and Derek. Ry pushed the glass doors open and held them as he stepped aside to let Claire through first. As soon as she set foot on the steps, she gave the crowd a grin and a thumbs-up sign.

An enormous cheer erupted.

“We did it!” Pam yelled, pumping her fist. “Thank you, oh tiny baby Jesus!”

“Friends, let us thank the Lord for his blessings,” Father Daniel intoned from the steps, giving Pam the hairy eyeball. Apparently chastised, Pam quickly sketched the sign of the cross.

“I guess those folks didn’t want more blockades, did they?” Anson gloated.

Claire gave her buddy a stern look. “Anson, I’ll tell you what made the difference, and it certainly wasn’t any blockade. The difference was these three people right here—Ry Griffin, and Derek and Jane Mallory. They worked their butts off to convince people that it would be a big step backward to close off the island. They talked at least seven islanders into withdrawing their support for the gate. And trust me, without that, the result would have gone the other way. The proposal lost by just a single vote, folks. One vote.”

The crowd collectively sucked in a startled breath.

“Well, then we owe you a debt of thanks, Griffin,” Anson finally said, extending a hand to Ry. He shook hands with Derek too, tipping his cap to Jane. “You folks can ride free on my boat anytime you want. You and all your guests.”

Ry shook his head. “That’s generous, Anson, but we were only doing what was right. We don’t need any thanks.”

“Speak for yourself, dude,” Derek said. “I’m always up for a boat ride, especially if it’s free.”

Jane whacked her husband on the arm, but everyone else who heard the exchange laughed at the multimillionaire’s cheapskate comment.

“Claire deserves more thanks than any of us,” Ry said. “She showed us CFAs what it means to be a real part of this community. Without her, I would have been holed up in my house instead of knocking on people’s doors to get them to vote no.”

While Claire felt herself blushing, she couldn’t hold back an idiotic, madly in love grin. And when Ry bent his head to kiss her, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him everything she had. Everyone hooted and cheered.

“Whew,” Pam said, fanning herself when they separated. “Well, Mister, I’d say you’d better be putting a ring on that girl’s finger real soon. Especially if you’re going to practically do the nasty right here on the church steps.”

“Goodness sakes, Pamela,” Father Daniel huffed.

Snickering, Tammy shook her head and then slung a loving arm around her wife.

“Yeah, superstar,” Anson chimed in. “Man up and do right by the girl.”

Claire was about to tell her friend to shut up when Ry took her by the hand. “Pam and Anson have a point, sweetheart. I was planning on doing this later tonight in Portland, but maybe it’d be better right here, in front of our friends.”

“Are you serious?” she squeaked. Ryder Griffin was not the kind of man who made public gestures, especially not romantic ones.

“No need to be shy, Claire,” Pam said. “Marriage proposals are almost a team sport in this part of the world. After all, it is Brides Bay.”

Loud groans greeted the lame joke.

Ry pulled a small, dome-shaped silver box from the pocket of his leather jacket and flipped it open. The diamond ring inside was the biggest Claire had ever seen in real life. Her brain froze on the spot, even as her heart melted with joy.

“I love you, Claire,” Ry said in a quiet, almost solemn voice. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Direct and sweet—the proposal was just like the man. And those two brief sentences were by far the best ones Claire had ever heard.

She held out her left hand. “I love you too, Ry. And yes, of course I’ll marry you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Somehow she’d managed to get the words out without bursting into tears.

But when he slipped the truly impressive rock onto her finger, Claire finally lost it. She only vaguely heard the crowd cheering as Ry swept her into another tight embrace.

“Don’t cry, babe,” he murmured in her ear. “We both finally made it all the way home.”

She snuggled against his chest. “And home is the best. With you.”