Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-12 & 2 Novellas). Debbie Macomber
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paid for the worming medication he needed for his horses and turned to leave.
While he might not have recognized her, he didn’t have any problem remembering Buttercup.
He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and for a moment she thought he might do them both a favor and walk away. No, that would’ve been entirely too easy. Instead he walked across the room and stood directly in front of her.
“Hello, Grace.”
She put down the magazine as if noticing him for the first time. “Oh—hello, Cliff.”
“How’s Buttercup?” he asked. Bending down on one knee, he gently placed his hand beneath the golden retriever’s jaw and looked into her eyes. “What does Doc Newman say?”
“I haven’t been in to see her yet.”
A frown darkened his face. “This is your first visit?”
She nodded. He didn’t need to say anything more; she read the censure in his eyes, felt the reprimand. She wanted to defend herself—but she couldn’t.
After a moment, he stood and stared down at her. “I hope you aren’t too late.” He touched the brim of his hat in farewell and strode out the door.
Twenty-Three
It’d been three weeks since Maryellen had seen Jon, other than in passing. She’d gotten quite good at inventing reasons for him to linger when he came to collect Katie, but he always had an excuse to leave almost as soon as he arrived.
The unspoken message that he no longer wanted to be part of her life was beginning to sink into her stubborn heart. The more she obsessed over his behavior, the more convinced she became that there was someone else.
For the most part, Maryellen was able to hide her pain and disappointment from those closest to her. Her sister was busy and involved in her marriage. These days Kelly was preoccupied with getting pregnant a second time and seemed oblivious to anything outside her own small world. Not that Maryellen was complaining. If their circumstances had been reversed, she probably would’ve done the same.
Her mother was a different story. In the last year, Maryellen had felt closer to her mother than anyone, but that, too, had changed and for reasons she didn’t understand. While Maryellen was pregnant with Katie, she’d had many wonderful talks with her mother. But lately, Grace had been distracted, and Maryellen felt excluded from her mother’s life.
Oddly, the one person she could confide in was her nail tech. Rachel had been working on Maryellen’s nails for three years; during that time, she’d become both confessor and counselor.
There was something liberating about sitting across from Rachel like this. The minute Rachel reached for her hands, it was as if an emotional wall lowered between them. Despite the privileged nature of their relationship, their time together was limited to these occasional appointments.
What she couldn’t tell her mother and sister, she could discuss with Rachel. It was Rachel who’d first guessed that she was pregnant, although Maryellen had worked hard to keep it a secret for as long as possible. And Rachel was the first to recognize that Maryellen had fallen in love with Jon, something she’d barely acknowledged to herself. Rachel’s insight and practical wisdom had been a special gift these last few weeks.
February wound to a close. Maryellen sat across from Rachel for her nail appointment; when she looked up, she found Rachel studying her intently.
“What?” Maryellen stretched out her hands.
Rachel frowned. “I wondered, but now I know. You didn’t hear from Jon, did you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Maryellen tried to make a joke of it and failed.
“Yes.” Rachel lifted Maryellen’s hands for inspection. “Look at these nails! They’re a disaster. I can always tell when something’s troubling you by looking at your fingernails.”
“I know, I know.” She’d chipped the polish on two nails and broken another. Rachel was right; she was a mess and in more ways than one.
Rachel nonchalantly reached for a cotton ball and polish remover. “I saw Jon the other day, down by the waterfront with Katie. I think it’s so cute the way he hauls her around on his back, all bundled up and everything. He had his camera around his neck.”
Maryellen had seen Jon with Katie in exactly that way a dozen times. She marveled at what a good father he was. She felt sure that Katie would love the outdoors with the same energy and enthusiasm as Jon.
“Speaking of Katie, how’s she doing?” Rachel asked. “Last time you were in, she’d just gotten over a cold and an ear infection. Poor little thing.”
“She’s much better.” A fact for which Maryellen was eternally grateful. Katie’s illness had been a nightmare for her. She was astonished by how well she’d managed to function on so little sleep. Not that she wanted to try it again anytime soon. “Katie’s crawling around like crazy. I’ll bet she starts walking early.”
Rachel sighed and vigorously rubbed the Forever French polish from Maryellen’s fingertips. “I’d love to have a baby. I’m telling you, Maryellen, that biological clock of mine is getting louder than Big Ben. I’m almost thirty, and if I don’t meet someone soon, I have a feeling I never will.”
Men or the lack thereof was a frequent topic between them. Rachel liked to say that her chances of meeting eligible men in a hair-and-nail shop were equivalent to losing weight on a diet of hot fudge sundaes. She’d done the bar scene, hung around at all the “guy” places. A year ago, she’d even enrolled in a mechanics class at the community college. Not a single date had come as a result of all that effort, and Rachel was discouraged.
“Anytime you want to borrow Katie for a fix, let me know,” Maryellen told her.
“I just might.” Rachel dumped the used cotton balls in the garbage and picked up her file. “Enough about my pathetic love life, let’s talk about you and Jon.”
As if there was anything to talk about. “Unfortunately, it all seems pretty hopeless.”
“Why?”
There was no easy way to answer that question. She hadn’t intended to tell Rachel what she suspected, but the words were out before she could stop them. “I think he’s involved with someone else.”
Rachel looked up and held Maryellen’s gaze. “I don’t believe it.”
Maryellen mumbled a response, her head lowered. This was humiliating enough without inviting the entire shop to listen in.
“What?” Rachel asked. “I didn’t hear you.”
Embarrassed, Maryellen said, “I practically threw myself at him not once, but twice—and Jon turned me down both times.” She spoke in a hoarse whisper. The morning they’d awakened next to each other and he’d moved away from her had been a low point for Maryellen.
“That’s what I mean,” Rachel whispered back heatedly. “If Jon didn’t love you, he’d have taken what you offered, and just enjoyed himself. Then he would’ve left without a backward glance. But, you’ll notice, Jon didn’t do that. He exhibited self-control.”
“But why?” Maryellen demanded. If Jon truly loved her, she’d know it; she’d feel it. If he did care for her, she wouldn’t have felt so utterly devastated when he walked away.
“That I can’t answer,” Rachel murmured as she continued to file Maryellen’s nails.
“Maybe he’s seeing one of the women he works with,” Maryellen said, and her heart grew heavy at the thought. The Lighthouse employed lots of single women who worked as waitresses. There were others in the kitchen. And his photographs were gaining more and more attention. Maryellen had been around the artists’ community long enough to know how attractive women found creative men.
“There’s no one else,”