16 Lighthouse Road Page 13

  “This is Cecilia Randall,” she said into the mouthpiece, eagerly anticipating Ian’s voice.

  Only it wasn’t her husband on the other end of the line. Instead, Andrew Lackey answered.

  “We met not long ago, remember?”

  “Of course. Where’s Ian?” He might have been transferred again. The Navy did that, often without rhyme or reason—at least in her opinion.

  “Listen, I thought you should know. Ian’s in the hospital.”

  She gasped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing too serious. He took a tumble and wrenched his back. Apparently he hit his head, too, because he has a concussion. They’re keeping him for observation.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Yesterday morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. I just thought you’d like to know.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  As soon as they’d finished the conversation, Cecilia walked over to her father. “Ian’s been hurt…I’m going to the hospital. Find someone to cover for me, would you?”

  “Sure thing. You go, and I’ll hold down the fort.”

  Grateful, she smiled at her father and impulsively hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.” The tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Hey, none of that. Now, give Ian my best and let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will,” she said and hurriedly reached for her coat and purse.

  The drive to the Navy Hospital in Bremerton seemed to take forever. Her car belched thick smoke as she turned off the freeway and headed for the extensive parking lot outside the hospital.

  She quickly found out where she needed to go. Breathless, Cecilia charged into the elevator. Once she’d located his room, she paused in the hallway for a moment, just long enough to brush a hand through her hair and draw in a deep breath. Then she knocked at the door.

  No one answered, so she opened it and stepped inside. At her first sight of her husband, Cecilia couldn’t prevent an exclamation of shock. Andrew had led her to believe that Ian had suffered a minor fall, that the only reason he’d been hospitalized was as a precaution. One quick look told her his injuries were far worse than she’d expected.

  Ian lifted his bandaged head and when he saw who it was, he groaned.

  “What happened?” she asked, moving fully into the room.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, and it was plain she was the last person he wanted to see.

  “I—I… Andrew called me, and…”

  He frowned, and winced; no wonder, she thought. One side of his face was swollen and badly bruised. His left eye was completely shut and there was a bandage around his left arm.

  “What’s the other guy look like?” she asked, hoping a light approach would relax him.

  He ignored the question.

  “Ian…what’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t ask you to come here,” he returned gruffly.

  “I know. I came because I wanted to make sure you were all right.” She didn’t mention that she’d risked her job to do so. Her father had said he’d cover for her, but in her rush, she hadn’t spoken to her boss and had left without permission.

  “As you can see, I’m just hunky-dory, so you can leave now.”

  His words stung. “That’s rude.”

  “In case you hadn’t figured it out, I’m not exactly in the mood for company.”

  “All right,” she whispered and retreated a step.

  “Go on,” he urged. “Get out of here.”

  She blinked, unbearably hurt that Ian would speak to her this way. “If that’s how you feel, then—”

  “Go,” he shouted, pointing at the door.

  Turning on her heel, Cecilia ran out of the room. If he didn’t want her concern or…or her love, that was fine with her.

  “Cecilia!” he called after her, but she resolutely ignored him. She hurried to the elevator, pushing the button with more force than necessary. Maybe it was time to see her attorney, after all. She refused to stay married to a man who treated her like this.

  Eight

  The March rains had arrived, and the last thing Justine Lockhart wanted was to sit in a stuffy room with a bunch of classmates, planning an event she probably wouldn’t even attend. But that was exactly what she’d have to do. As Justine had predicted, she’d been contacted by the reunion committee and asked if she’d be willing to help. In a moment of weakness, she’d agreed.

  Unfortunately, Justine had made the mistake of mentioning the reunion to Warren. He’d refused to even consider going with her. After all the times she’d sat through dead boring meetings waiting for him or played hostess to a group of his business colleagues, she’d assumed he’d do this one small thing for her. She’d obviously assumed wrong.

  He’d tried to smooth over their spat with a pretty sapphire necklace and an invitation to dinner. In the past, Justine had accepted his jewel-encrusted apologies, and they’d gone on as before. Justine was well acquainted with Warren’s faults; she usually chose to ignore them. He could be entertaining and he tended to indulge her in return for her company. That might sound calculating but it was an arrangement that suited them both. Besides, for all his money, he had few friends. And neither of them was in this relationship for the long haul. Expectations were clear.

  The planning meeting was held at the home of Lana Sullivan, who’d married Jay Rothchild. In the ten years since she’d graduated, Justine hadn’t spoken to Lana once.

  “Justine!” Lana greeted her enthusiastically, hugging her as though they were long-lost friends. “Come in! Seth’s here and so is Mary.”

  Justine glanced into the living room and saw that Mary O’Donnell was several months pregnant. “Good to see you Mary,” Justine said, smiling, then nodded at Seth.

  The school’s star athlete hadn’t changed much—physically, at least. He was just as tall and muscular, although he’d filled out and had a more mature look. He remained strikingly blond. She didn’t remember him being this handsome, but her high-school years were pretty much a blur.

  “What are you doing these days?” Mary asked.

  Justine shrugged. “I’m working at First National.” She’d graduated from college with a degree in history; unfortunately, this hadn’t translated into an employable skill.

  “I hear you’re the manager,” Seth said.

  “I am.” It surprised her he knew that. He wasn’t a customer.

  Ill at ease, Justine claimed a chair across from Mary, tucked her hands under her thighs and made polite conversation with the small group, declining a cup of coffee. She wasn’t sure when the strained atmosphere shifted into comfortable exchange, but it did. Soon she found herself laughing with these people who were little more than familiar strangers.

  Once the schedule of events had been decided and committees formed, the meeting was over. Justine left at the same time as Seth.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked, to her astonishment. He dangled his car keys as he waited for her reply.

  Justine realized this was more than a mere inquiry; it was an invitation. “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t.” Warren had suggested she phone when she was finished with her meeting—he’d said he might be able to take her out for a drink—but she was in no hurry to do so. “Would you like some company?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  As Justine had discovered early in the evening, Seth wasn’t at all the way she remembered him. It hadn’t taken her long to see that her view of him as an empty-headed jock was completely off-base. He had a sharp wit and the most wonderful, hearty laugh. She’d liked his ideas for the reunion, which revealed imagination combined with practicality.

  They drove in separate cars to D.D.’s on the Cove, a fashionable seafood restaurant on the pier, close to the marina. The restaurant had opened that summer, and Justine had gone there for lunch but never dinner.

  Since it was already past eight, they were seated right away. A prime table, too, by one of
the windows overlooking the harbor, where they could see the lights from the Bremerton shipyard blinking across the cove. Justine glanced quickly at the menu and made her choice.

  “It’s hard to believe we graduated ten years ago, isn’t it?” she said. “Nobody looks that different. Well, except for Mary…”

  “I have mixed feelings about the reunion,” Seth confessed.

  “Why?” she asked with some puzzlement.

  “If I go at all, I’ll probably end up going alone. It kind of wrecks my image, you know?” He grinned, and Justine couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “You certainly had girls buzzing around you while we were in school,” she told him.

  “Except the one I really wanted.” His deep blue eyes held hers.

  “Who are you kidding? You could’ve dated anyone.”

  “Not you,” he said, still watching her.

  “Me?” she said in shock. “You wanted to date me?”

  This had to be a joke, and not a funny one. She was about to say so when it suddenly occurred to her that he might be serious.

  “What do you mean?” she asked in a weak voice.

  “I had the biggest crush on you.”

  “Not once did you ask me out,” she reminded him.

  “Would you have gone with me if I had?”

  Justine didn’t know.

  “You saw me as a big dunce, and I don’t blame you. Whenever I was around you, I got so flustered I couldn’t speak. Anytime you were in the vicinity, I was in trouble. I couldn’t say or do anything right. Then I’d feel like such an idiot I’d beat myself up about it for weeks afterward.”

  “I didn’t have a clue,” Justine said faintly, shaking her head.

  “Thank God,” he said with a chuckle. He returned his attention to the menu, as if he intended to say nothing more on this subject.

  The waitress came with a basket of warm bread, promptly took their order and left. Justine reached for a slice of sourdough. Apparently Seth’s “crush” had long since faded.

  “I’ll probably be attending the reunion alone, too,” she murmured.

  “You?” He made that sound entirely implausible. “I thought you and that Saget fellow were an item.”

  “We are…sort of.” She wasn’t sure how to explain her relationship with Warren and decided it was best not to try.

  “You’re dating other guys?”

  Justine didn’t think she wanted Seth to know she was available. His confession had a curious effect on her—it left her with the almost overwhelming urge to laugh. All through high school, she’d felt tall and awkward, on the very fringes of the popular crowd. She’d been too smart and serious for social success as defined in high school.

  Seth tore off a piece of bread and smiled sadly. “It’s all right. You don’t need to answer that. I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?”

  “That’s not it,” she reassured him. “I don’t know what to say. I never dreamed… You could’ve gone out with any girl you wanted!” She shook her head again. “I didn’t date much in high school. It was a bad time for me.”

  “Because of Jordan?”

  So few people mentioned her twin’s name that it stunned her to hear it spoken. She waited for the shock to dissipate before answering. “Partly. We were close, you know, and well, nothing was the same after he died.”

  “For me, either.”

  Naturally Justine knew Seth and Jordan had been good friends, but she hadn’t anticipated that her brother’s death would’ve made such a lasting impression on him.

  “I used to think if I’d been with him that day, he wouldn’t have drowned.”

  Until Seth said the words, Justine had forgotten that this very thought had passed through her mind the day of the accident. She felt tears stinging her eyes and looked away, blinking furiously.

  “Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t discuss Jordan,” she finally said, still staring out the window, although the lights of Bremerton were an indistinct haze. “The accident was a long time ago.” It had been the turning point in her life. She’d lost not only her twin brother but her family, her security, her entire sense of self. Since the age of thirteen, she’d staggered through life looking for purpose—for something that would root her once again.

  They were both quiet, as if caught in the memories of the past, then made a determined effort to move forward. By the time their meal arrived, they were chatting again, their conversation light and relaxed. They lingered over coffee, and he seemed as reluctant to leave as she was. When D.D.’s closed at ten, Seth offered to show her his boat, the Silver Belle. Justine agreed.

  “It’s not much.”

  Justine didn’t expect that it would be; still, she was curious. They walked toward the marina. She hunched her shoulders against the cold drizzle that had begun while they sat in the restaurant. They stepped onto the floating concrete dock, which was slick with rain. The lights reflecting off the black water guided her as Seth skillfully led the way. He moved easily along the rocking walkway, and was several feet ahead of her before he realized that she lagged behind. When he noticed, he offered her his hand. She was amazed by the strength she felt in his fingers. His hands were those of a man who knew the value of physical work. This observation reminded her of what her mother had said. He’s a hard worker, Justine, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

  During their dinner discussion, she’d learned that Seth not only lived at the marina, but helped manage it in the winter months. In the summers, he flew to Alaska and fished on one of the huge commercial vessels there. His father and grandfather had been fishermen before him. As Seth put it, fishing was in his blood.

  He stepped onto the twenty-two-foot sailboat and helped Justine onboard. As soon as she was secure, he led her belowdecks. His quarters were cramped but tidy.

  “Coffee?” he asked, as he reached for the kettle.

  “No, I’ve had enough, thanks.” She didn’t want him to go to the trouble, especially since she didn’t plan on staying long.

  He stood with his hands tucked in his back pockets, looking indecisive. The tour of his home had taken all of about one minute.

  “I’ll escort you back to your car,” he offered.

  Justine was grateful; she didn’t relish walking back along the floating dock on her own. Once again Seth took her hand, and neither spoke until they reached her vehicle. Before unlocking the door, she turned to him. “Thanks,” she said lightly. “I enjoyed dinner and seeing your boat.”

  “I enjoyed spending the evening with you.” He retreated a step. “Are you going to any more of the planning meetings?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I think so. What about you?”

  “I will as long as I’m in town.”

  “Oh, right.” Seth would be in Alaska fishing at the time of the reunion. Suddenly the thought of his not being there dejected her. When she’d first arrived at Lana’s, she was so certain she had nothing in common with any of these people. She’d been delighted to discover that she did. With one of them, anyway…

  “I’ll miss you,” she said.

  “Do you mean that?” Seth stared down at her.

  Justine nodded.

  “I’m glad.” Then, without giving her a chance to guess his intention, he drew her into his arms and slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

  Very much aware of what she was doing, Justine closed her eyes and raised her face to meet his kiss. His lips settled warm and moist over hers. Wrapped in his embrace, she was astonished to realize that she wanted this. Wanted it badly…

  There was excitement in his kiss, and gentleness. She hadn’t expected a man of his size to be so…tender, but then Seth Gunderson had been full of surprises all evening.

  The John F. Reynolds was gone and without a word from Ian. The fact that he’d left without notifying her was perfectly okay, Cecilia told herself bitterly. Their last meeting had been so horrible she didn’t care if she ever saw her soon-to-be ex-husband again.

  “You al
l right, kiddo?” her father asked Saturday morning when Cecilia dropped in at the restaurant to pick up her paycheck.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” she snapped.

  “No reason,” he said, and held up his hands as though warding off trouble.

  She hadn’t meant to growl at him, but lately her father had developed this irritating habit of trying to be her friend, her confidante, and she rejected both roles.

  “How’s school?” he asked, obviously attempting to make conversation.

  “Why the concern all of a sudden?” she wanted to know. When she’d first mentioned it, all the encouragement she’d gotten was some offhand comment about how cool that was.

  “No reason,” he said again. He turned away as if he regretted even asking.

  Cecilia sighed, hardly understanding herself. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Bobby stared at her. “What’s bothering you, kid? You’ve been in kind of a bad mood the last couple of weeks.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He frowned, seemed about to protest, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “It’s just that I’ve been working late, then getting up early for school.” A feeble explanation, but the most she was willing to give. Lack of sleep explained a lot, but not everything.

  “So you’re still taking all those classes?” He seemed to think she would’ve lost interest by now.

  “Yeah, I’m still in school.” And loving the challenge, despite the drain on her time and energy.

  “Ian around these days?” her father asked cautiously.

  “Apparently not,” she said, speaking in a nonchalant manner. “The John F. Reynolds left earlier this week.” It wasn’t as though she could ignore the fact. The media—both the local paper and the Seattle dailies, plus the TV news—had made a big issue of the repaired aircraft carrier departing for the second time within a month. Not only that, Cedar Cove had been full of talk about it.

  “You speak to him lately?”

  Cecilia noticed that Bobby stood several feet away from her. He seemed prepared to make a quick getaway if she snapped at him again.