The Inn at Rose Harbor Read online

  As she pulled into the driveway of the Rose Harbor Inn, Abby was struck again by what a lovely place this had turned out to be. The structure itself was amazing, overlooking the cove. However, it was far more than the beauty of the place that drew her to it. Abby felt like she was coming home each time she returned. Just being in the house seemed to affect her in a positive way. It was as if she was shucking off the burdens of the past right along with her wool coat when she walked in the door.

  As Abby entered the foyer, Jo Marie stepped out of the kitchen to greet her. “Oh hi, I wondered when you’d be back,” she said. “Did you have a good afternoon? When’s the rehearsal?”

  “I did.” It was true. Abby had enjoyed herself. Running into Patty had been unexpected. Her onetime friend’s reaction had gone a long way toward boosting Abby’s spirits and her confidence. She was beginning to tentatively feel that coming home had been the right thing to do. As much as Abby had dreaded this wedding, she now found herself flirting with a sense of hope, of anticipation that putting the accident behind her just might be a possibility.

  When Abby looked up, she realized Jo Marie was looking at her. “I’m sorry, did you say something? I zoned out for a moment.”

  “Please, don’t worry. I’m a little zoned out myself,” Jo Marie said and then shook her head. “You’ll have to forgive me. The oddest thing just happened. A … former acquaintance stopped by and then someone else, someone I barely know, popped in. Then they both stepped outside and before I knew it they were gone. As far as I know they’d never met each other before and … I … I hardly know what to think.”

  Abby was grateful to have the subject shift away from her. “That is rather strange, isn’t it?” she said, sympathetically.

  “Really weird,” Jo Marie said, shaking her head as though she was utterly perplexed by the entire event. Still seeming distracted, Jo Marie returned to the kitchen.

  Glad to avoid any further delay, Abby headed up the stairs. In an effort to bolster her self-confidence, she’d splurged on two new outfits—one for the rehearsal and dinner and another for the actual wedding. She’d chosen a pink and white pant suit for the rehearsal. It had cost more money than she felt comfortable spending, but the salesclerk had raved about how good it looked on her, so Abby had succumbed.

  If ever there was a time to feel positive about herself, it was now, facing her family and friends. The mental preparation was as important, if not more so, than the physical one.

  Abby quickly changed clothes, refreshed her hair and makeup, and then sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap as she struggled to calm her pounding heart. It was all about to begin now. Within the next hour she’d be with her parents, visiting with relatives she hadn’t seen in years.

  After several minutes, Abby felt she was as ready as she was ever going to be. For good measure she squirted on her favorite perfume and headed out the door, amused by the thought that a squirt of expensive perfume would give her an edge.

  “Have a wonderful time,” Jo Marie called after Abby as she left the inn.

  “Thank you.” Abby’s response was automatic, yet she wondered if enjoying these festivities would be possible. Her nerves were already on high alert, and she could feel the muscles along the back of her shoulders tightening with tension.

  Abby arrived at the address Roger had given her, although she already knew where the Catholic church was located. It was the same church they’d attended when they lived in the area. The sanctuary, however, was new. A large cross dominated the front of the sprawling structure, centered on the roof above the double-wide doors leading into the building.

  The church lot was almost deserted. Abby parked close to the entrance and heard laughter and good-natured banter floating down the hall from the sanctuary. Abby recognized Victoria’s voice and realized that part of the wedding party had gathered in a room off the vestibule. Abby knew that Tamara, Victoria’s younger sister, was the maid of honor, and that Victoria had chosen several close friends as her bridesmaids.

  As soon as Abby entered the room, Victoria broke away from the wedding party and came to greet her. With her arm around Abby’s waist, she brought her close and introduced her. “Everyone, this is Abby Kincaid, Roger’s sister.”

  She was greeted with a chorus of welcomes and was instantly subjected to a number of questions.

  “What was Roger like as a kid?” Tamara asked. “I mean, Victoria and I fought something terrible. Did you and Roger get along?”

  Abby grinned, remembering how grateful she’d been to have a way to meet boys, all thanks to her brother. “We did in our own way … he was the source of most of my early dates.” Immediately Steve came to mind, her brother’s college roommate. Like Patty and other friends, he’d made a number of efforts to connect after Angela’s death but she’d ignored him, the same as she had everyone else.

  “Roger and I argued a lot as kids, but it wasn’t so bad when we got older.”

  “No, because he needed you in order to meet girls,” her future sister-in-law joked. “That street goes two ways.”

  Abby tilted her head to one side and smiled again. How right Victoria was. “Exactly.”

  Abby found a chair in the corner and sat. She felt more comfortable sitting back and observing than she did being the center of attention. Watching Victoria with her friends was an endless source of entertainment. While Abby didn’t know these women, she liked the way they fussed over Victoria, teasing and laughing together. Abby laughed, too, drawn in by their happiness.

  Her parents were due to arrive any minute. By now they must have had time to drive to their hotel, check in, and change their clothes.

  Briefly Abby wondered if her father still had the same double-breasted suit he’d worn to every formal occasion she could remember. One suit, he claimed, was all he would ever need. Abby’s mother had talked up a storm in order to convince him to invest in another, but Tom Kincaid had insisted that wasn’t necessary.

  After a few minutes, Abby made an excuse and left Victoria and the other women in the wedding party. Without conscious thought she wandered into the church, drawn in by the sanctuary.

  Standing in the middle of the center aisle, she looked around, taking in the modern features. Gone was the statue of the Virgin Mother holding the baby Jesus, her eyes gentle with a look of complete serenity. Jesus hanging on the cross, blood dripping from his pierced hands, was nowhere in sight either, although a large crucifix dominated the area behind the altar. The Stations of the Cross had a more modern look than she remembered. A lot had changed in the years she’d been away.

  The altar was completely different, too. The elaborate marble top had been replaced with a wooden structure.

  Abby tried to remember the last time she’d been to mass, and couldn’t. After the accident she’d drifted away from the church, and from God.

  She slipped into a pew in the back of the church and sat, soaking in the calming silence. Abby closed her eyes. The exhaustion she’d experienced that morning was gone and in its place had come a sense of anticipation.

  Anticipation, not dread.

  The realization struck her and once more she experienced a feeling of hope, a thin seedling of optimism, of … healing. The tension she’d felt across her shoulder blades gradually eased.

  She thought about praying the memorized prayers of her youth, but wasn’t sure she would remember all the words. Praying, talking to God, felt foreign, awkward. She wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. Wasn’t sure she even could.

  When she’d first heard that Angela hadn’t survived the car crash, Abby had cursed God. If anyone had to die, it should have been her. She’d been the one behind the wheel … the one responsible. Anger had gripped her. A holy anger. A righteous anger. God had failed her. He’d failed Angela, too. It wasn’t fair that her friend should have been killed and that two families had been torn apart.

  Funny how time scrubs away such agony, weathering it through the years, like water rush
ing over rocks gradually smooths away the sharp, painful edges. What they said about time being the great healer was true, Abby realized. She had a long way to go, she knew, but she had made progress. This one small step, returning to Cedar Cove, had taken courage even if she’d been forced into it by this wedding. It felt as if God was telling her it was time to use the momentum of this visit to continue to pick up the pieces of her life.

  The door to the sanctuary opened and Abby turned to see her mother peeking her head inside the door.

  “Mom,” she whispered. As a child she’d been taught never to speak out loud inside a church.

  “Abby.” Her mother walked inside and met Abby with open arms.

  The two women hugged, their embrace tight as if they’d been lost and then found.

  “I didn’t know what to think when I couldn’t find you,” her mother whispered. “Victoria didn’t know where you’d gone … the sanctuary was the last place I thought to look.”

  “I’ve only been here a few minutes,” Abby said, amused by her mother’s reaction. A quick look at her watch told her she’d been in the sanctuary far longer than she realized. Almost half an hour.

  “Oh look at you,” Linda Kincaid whispered, leaning back to get a better view of her. “Oh, honey, you look just wonderful.”

  “Thank you.” That salesclerk had been right. The pink and white outfit complemented her dark hair and eyes.

  “It’s just so good to see you,” her mother continued, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “It hasn’t been that long.”

  “Two years,” her mother contradicted. “Two very long years.”

  Had it really? Abby found it incredible that the months had come and gone so quickly. It seemed like only a few weeks ago that her parents had flown to Florida for a visit.

  “Christmas two years ago.”

  “I’m here now,” Abby countered.

  Again her mother hugged her. “It means so much to Roger and me that you agreed to attend the wedding. I … I know how hard this is for you.”

  “It’s better, Mom, much better,” she said. “I ran into Patty.”

  “Patty Morris?”

  “She’s Patty Jefferies now and she’s a pharmacist.”

  “Oh that’s just wonderful. I’m surprised. I can remember you and Patty pouring over your biology books and her claiming she just didn’t get it. And now she’s a pharmacist?”

  Abby nodded. “She and her husband, Pete, own the pharmacy.”

  “That’s amazing.” Her mother’s smile was wide and approving. “Who would have believed it?”

  “She seemed genuinely pleased to see me.”

  “Of course she was. You two were close all the way through school.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Abby said, struggling to hide her amusement. Her mother was her constant support, her anchor. How could she have kept her at arm’s length for so long?

  “How is Patty?” her mother asked. “She’s fabulous and she has twins.”

  “Twins. I’m telling you, Abby, if you or Roger don’t make me a grandmother soon, I don’t know what I’ll do. I need grandchildren to spoil.” Her laughter died away and she grew serious. “Are you dating anyone?” Within a matter of seconds, Linda pinned Abby with her laser look.

  “Mother! No, I’m not dating, and if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  Linda shook her head as though thoroughly disgusted. “I don’t know what it is with you kids,” she lamented. “By the time your father and I were your age we had two children and a mortgage. When are you going to meet a nice man and settle down?”

  Good question, and if Abby knew the answer she would have enjoyed sharing it with the rest of the world.

  “Mom, listen. I told you about meeting up with Patty for a reason.”

  “Oh?”

  “Patty’s organizing a lunch with some of my old friends who still live in the area and she asked that you come, too.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. She’s hoping to have her mother join us.” Abby rattled off the names Patty had mentioned.

  “I was on the school board with Kathy Wilson,” her mother said. “She’s Kelly Wilson’s mother.”

  “I know Kelly,” Abby said, amused now and struggling to disguise it.

  Once again her mother hugged her. “I knew this wedding would bring our family back together again. I just knew it.”

  Abby wasn’t ready to go quite that far, but she felt it was a start.

  Chapter 16

  “It’s thoughtful of you to do this for Richard,” Michelle said as they loaded the walker Josh had purchased at the local pharmacy into the trunk of his rented vehicle.

  “Knowing how stubborn he is, Richard will probably refuse to use it.” It would be just like his stepfather. “Still, it’s worth a try. I don’t like the idea of him trying to walk on his own. It would be far too easy for him to take a tumble.”

  “I’ve been saying the same thing for weeks.”

  When they arrived back at the house, Josh found Richard sound asleep in his recliner. He didn’t wake up, which told Josh that the trip to the hospital had exhausted the older man. To Josh’s surprise it looked as if Richard had managed to eat a little of the soup. At least he’d made the effort. That boded well for the walker. Maybe, just maybe, Richard would be willing to accept this small gift from him. The purchase hadn’t been made out of love, but out of respect for his mother.

  Josh carried the boxed walker into the kitchen. Michelle came with him. He would need to assemble it, although it didn’t look like there was much to it.

  “I’ll find you a screwdriver,” Michelle offered.

  Josh doubted that he’d need one, but he didn’t stop her from leaving. While she was out of the room, he opened the box and removed the pieces. He hadn’t had time to process what she’d told him about Dylan. In all the years he’d known his stepbrother, Josh couldn’t remember Dylan ever being intentionally cruel. He enjoyed practical jokes, Josh remembered. Slapstick humor seemed to amuse him the most, so he had to admit it didn’t seem impossible.

  It hurt Josh to know that Dylan had wounded Michelle’s tender heart. He was sorry it’d happened. Her pain had vibrated off of her as she’d recounted the details of the dance. What took him completely by surprise was that he’d felt the heady urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, to lean over and kiss her and tell her how bad he felt that something like this had happened. If he could have, he would’ve turned back the clock and escorted her to the prom himself.

  Having Michelle leave the room for a few minutes gave him some badly needed breathing room. The physical awareness between them had heightened after her story. He sensed it and was fairly certain that Michelle did, too, but there was no point in dwelling on it. A relationship between them would be impossible. His work took him all over the country. Although he had the house in San Diego, he was rarely there. By contrast, Michelle’s life was here in Cedar Cove. When he left town this time, it would be for good. He had no intention of returning.

  Josh had the walker fully assembled by the time Michelle returned with a screwdriver.

  “You did it?”

  Josh grinned. “It was easy.”

  “Maybe for you,” she joked.

  “I see you found a screwdriver.”

  “I got it from my dad’s garage.” She held it up for him to examine. “I was stunned by how many there were. I chose this one because it looked like Dad used it the most.”

  “Then you’d better take it back before he discovers it’s gone.”

  “Yeah, good idea.” She left once more and returned a few minutes later.

  Josh stood, thinking that with Richard asleep, it would be a good time to seek out the other things he wanted to collect.

  “Where are you going?” Michelle asked.

  Josh hesitated, not sure if he should tell her. “Richard’s bedroom.”

  She frowned as though she wasn’t sure she approved. “Why?”

  “I
want to look for something …”

  Still she hesitated. “I want to come with you.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll ruin something precious in retribution for what he did to my things?”

  “I don’t think you’re capable of that.”

  Her high opinion of his intentions humbled him. “Don’t be so sure.” Then, because he knew he might have a hard time controlling his temper if he found anything else of his that Richard had destroyed, he held out his hand, inviting Michelle to join him.

  The master bedroom was in the hallway off the kitchen. The door was slightly ajar. It creaked when Josh swung it open. He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, fearing the noise might have woken his stepfather. From where he stood he couldn’t see Richard. Josh had to believe that if the old man was awake, he would do something to try and stop him.

  The room was exactly as he remembered it. The bed was in the same position, but unmade. His mother had been a stickler about Dylan and him making up their beds every morning. To find the very one in which she’d slept such a mess of sheets and blankets somehow seemed wrong. Odd that he should feel compelled to straighten it.

  He walked around to his mother’s side of the bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand. It was empty. Disappointment hit him and his shoulders sank.

  “Did you find what you wanted?” Michelle asked.

  He shook his head. “It isn’t here.”

  “What are you looking for?” she whispered. “Maybe I can help.”

  “No need to whisper,” Josh assured her. “If Richard could hear us he would have called out by now.”

  “What is it you’re looking for?” she asked again, unwilling to let him sidestep the question.