44 Cranberry Point. Debbie Macomber

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44 Cranberry Point - Debbie Macomber


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failed; he still seemed to be shaken. She sympathized, but she didn’t want to get involved with him.

      “It won’t take much of your time, I promise.”

      She hesitated, fearing that he’d hound her until she gave in. “I plan to be at the Farmers’ Market in the morning.”

      “Perfect.” He leaped on the suggestion. “I’ll see you there. What time?”

      “It opens at nine.”

      “Make it later. Nine’s a little early for me.”

      So now he expected her to change her Saturday schedule to suit his? What sympathy she felt for him quickly evaporated. “I’ll be there at nine, Stan. If I see you then, that’ll be fine and if I don’t, I don’t.”

      “All right, all right. I’ll get there as close to nine as I can. Just remember I’m coming over from Seattle.”

      She’d forgotten that, but decided it didn’t matter; he was the one who considered it so important that they meet.

      Saturday morning, Grace loaded Buttercup into her car and drove to the Farmers’ Market. Buttercup was a well-behaved dog who loved being around people. The animal shelter had set up an adoption center in the market. Every Saturday the shelter brought down homeless cats and kittens; once a month, Grace took her turn running their booth, which was popular with children and adults alike.

      Buttercup strained against her leash in a hurry to view the kittens, and Grace sharply commanded her to heel. She’d been thinking about adopting a cat herself, since she felt bad about leaving Buttercup alone all day and a cat would be company for her.

      “Mom.”

      Grace turned to find Maryellen pushing Katie in her stroller. “I wondered if I’d see you here.” The back section of the stroller was already full.

      Grace bent down and kissed Katie, who gurgled and waved her arms. Maryellen positively glowed with happiness, and Grace was delighted. Maryellen was more confident and relaxed, more carefree somehow, than she’d ever been. And-equally important-Katie would have the benefit of growing up with two parents.

      “You’re out and about early,” she said conversationally.

      “Jon’s working and won’t be home until late afternoon.”

      That meant her son-in-law was somewhere in western Washington photographing trees or birds. Or something.

      “I love married life,” Maryellen burst out. “Oh, Mom, how could I have been so foolish? Jon is a wonderful husband and father.”

      “Honey, I’m thrilled for you.”

      “I’d better get back to the house. I bought three pounds of fresh clams and I need to get them into the refrigerator.”

      “I didn’t think you liked clams.”

      “I don’t, but Jon does.”

      It seemed to Grace that if Jon indulged Maryellen, as she often claimed, her daughter catered to Jon just as much.

      Grace bought a pound of clams herself and a jar of marmalade from Carol, the lady who sold homemade jelly. She glanced around and didn’t see Stan and figured that was for the best. After strolling down the other aisles, she made her way toward the parking lot.

      “Grace,” Stan called, waving vigorously. He stood on the marina walkway. “Over here.”

      With Buttercup trotting beside her, Grace walked to the marina area.

      “Seth suggested I sleep in his boat,” Stan explained. He looked like he was ready for a tennis date, wearing white shorts and a white cable-knit sweater with a red-and-blue border.

      “How’s it going?” he asked, striking a relaxed pose, studying her as if he wasn’t quite sure where to start.

      “Good.” She didn’t elaborate, preferring to skip the small talk. “What can I do for you?”

      His smile was strained. “You know, since Marge and I split and Olivia married that newsman, I’ve been at loose ends.”

      Grace didn’t like the sound of this. She wondered if he was leading up to asking her out again, and if that was the case, she simply wasn’t interested. She had to tell him before he went any further.

      “Stan, I realize you must be lonely-”

      “Lonely,” he repeated and shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. “No, no, it isn’t that. I heard about the Dog and Bachelor Auction.”

      It took Grace a moment to put two and two together-and then she upbraided herself for being so dense.

      “I’d like to volunteer to be one of the bachelors,” Stan said eagerly.

      She should’ve known. Stan had always enjoyed being the center of attention. The idea of women bidding on him…That would be the ultimate. In all fairness, he’d do a good job as someone’s date for an evening, provided whoever won him knew what to expect.

      “It’s for charity, right?”

      “To raise funds for the animal shelter,” she told him.

      “Well, you know how I feel about animals.” He nodded sagely and she nodded, too, although she’d never noticed any particular liking for animals. “I’m willing to do my part,” he went on, “and since I’m available, well, why not?” He cast her a practiced smile. “I imagine I could bring in a few dollars for a worthy cause.”

      “You don’t live in Cedar Cove, remember?”

      “You’re right, but I did at one time and people here know me. Really, volunteering is the least I can do to help out, and I understand you’re the person to talk to.”

      “Actually, two other women are gathering bachelors’ names, but I’d be happy to suggest yours.

      Stan grinned. “Thanks.” Gratitude radiated from him. “I knew I could count on you.”

      Buttercup wagged her tail and looked up, anticipating Stan’s attention. However the animal lover didn’t so much as glance in the dog’s direction.

      “Have you already been to the market?” Stan asked.

      The bags in her hands should be evidence that she had.

      “How about if I buy you a cup of coffee and you can fill me in on the details about the auction? Maybe you could help me come up with a strategy.”

      “A…strategy?”

      “Yeah, you know. How to get the ladies to bid on me. Just how many women are expected?”

      “I don’t know. The tickets haven’t gone on sale yet.”

      “I just had a thought.” He straightened, seeming pleased with himself. “I imagine that if the women in town knew exactly who was up for auction, the animal shelter would sell more tickets, right?”

      Grace wasn’t sure about that. “I suppose.”

      “What if you printed the names of the bachelors directly on the tickets? That might generate even more interest, don’t you think?”

      Stan was certainly full of ideas. “I’ll make that suggestion, too,” she murmured.

      “Good.” His eyes brightened and Grace could see he was quite taken with this bachelor auction. During their one and only dinner date, Stan had practically been crying in his soup, wallowing in self-pity. He’d regrouped fast enough, she thought wryly.

      “I’ll do what I can to make sure your name’s added to the list,” she said, eager to leave for home.

      “Thanks, Gracie. I appreciate the fact that you’re such a good friend.”

      Grace didn’t consider herself that much of a friend, but she let the comment-and


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