Heron's Landing. JoAnn Ross
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the stress of her workday began to flow away.
But not tonight. She’d always been a positive person. Anyone who had a flash fire temper, or was even easily annoyed, would never succeed in her career. But as she reran the conversation with the doctor who wore his privilege the same way he undoubtedly wore his white hospital coat, a low, simmering irritation flowed through her. And had her thinking, yet again, of those happier early days. She considered going to the resort’s exercise room and working it off on the treadmill and elliptical, but opted instead for take-out pizza, a glass of wine and streaming a movie.
Another reason she’d chosen this apartment was that its white walls offered a blank canvas. As did the white furniture and white kitchen. A person could do anything they wanted to make it their own. But, she realized now, though it was a respite from the overexcessive gilt of Midas, it didn’t offer a single clue to the person who lived here. She hadn’t bought any posters, or paintings, or even colorful throw pillows. And although she’d practically grown up in her mother’s farm kitchen, she owned one frying pan, two pots, a teakettle, a coffee maker and a set of four white dishes and bowls she’d bought online. A nun’s room at a convent would undoubtedly have more personality.
Then again, she reminded herself as she kicked off her sensible black pumps, changed into yoga pants and an oversize Gotham Knights football jersey her brother Burke had sent her, she didn’t exactly live here. She ate takeout and slept. Her life was at Midas. Same as it had been at every other hotel she’d worked at over the years. Which was fine with her. Dedication to her career had paid off in escalating achievements and money. And although she experienced a sense of satisfaction when she waved her magic concierge wand and provided a magical happy outcome for guests, when was the last time she’d felt happy?
“You’re just in the dumps because of Doctor Dick,” she assured herself as she poured a glass of chardonnay. After calling in her take-out order, she sat down on the hard, snowy white couch, turned on her iPad and logged into the Honeymoon Harbor website, which she’d been doing more and more often since moving to the desert two years ago.
Clicking on the link to the town’s newspaper, the Honeymoon Harbor Herald, she scrolled through announcements of births, weddings, anniversaries and deaths, recognizing the names of people she’d known all of her life. People she’d grown up with. Harper Construction had renovated the old library, which had earned a national award for innovative green historical renovation. Seeing the photo of Seth Harper, appearing uncomfortable in a suit and tie, caused a twinge in Brianna’s heart.
She’d had a crush on him going back to first grade, when he’d shared his lunch box Ding Dong with her. Her mother was a farm-to-table cook who hadn’t allowed processed food in their home. Even now, looking back, Brianna wasn’t sure whether it was Seth’s dark-chocolate-brown eyes with their ridiculously long lashes or the sudden burst of sugar on her tongue that had caused her to fall.
Despite being a Harper, he’d been friends with her brothers, which had him around the farm a lot. During her elementary school years, whenever she’d play with her Barbies, she’d be bridal Barbie, and groom Ken had been renamed Seth. Unfortunately, he’d always viewed her as either his friend’s sister who’d insist on tagging along with them, or worse, one of the guys. By middle school, she still hadn’t caught his attention, but Brianna knew, with every fiber of her young, not-yet-budding body, that once they got to high school and her breasts grew larger than the puny little bumps sticking out from her chest and she got curves in other places—like maybe some hips that didn’t look like a boy’s?—Seth Harper would finally look up and notice that the girl of his dreams had been in front of him all along.
Maybe she’d even get a locker next to his. Those things could happen, right? After all, all those book writers and movie makers had to get the “meet cute” idea from somewhere. And one day, while he was taking out his book for their shared first-period English class, their eyes would meet, bells would chime, Disney bluebirds would sing and, forever and ever afterward, they’d be known to one and all as “Sethanna.”
Unfortunately, when they’d returned to school after the Christmas break their last year of middle school, he’d looked up, all right. But instead of being blinded by her not-yet-achieved perfection, instead he’d noticed Zoe Robinson, a new girl from Astoria, Oregon, whose father had brought the family across the Columbia River back to his hometown. From the moment Zoe had walked into that first-period homeroom, Seth’s swoony brown eyes had locked on to her. And Zoe had tumbled just as fast.
Brianna could have hated her. At first, she’d wanted to hate her. But the petite girl with the long dark curls turned out to be as friendly as she was pretty. With Seth seeming destined to forever stay in brother mode, and unable to ignore the little sparkly hearts that appeared to follow the couple around like fairy dust, by the summer of their sophomore year of high school, Brianna had resigned herself to the fact that the two were, in fact, the perfect couple. And over that time, Zoe had become like the sister Brianna had always dreamed of.
Not that any of that had stopped her from dreaming of Seth. Mature Audience Only dreams (she hadn’t had the experience to imagine the R-rated yet) that had her feeling guilty when she woke up, and making it hard to face either one of them the next day.
After graduation, Zoe had joined the Army, something she’d been talking about all through school, but Brianna hadn’t really believed she’d go through with. And, from what she could tell, her visit to the Port Angeles recruiting center had surprised even Seth. She’d always wanted to be a nurse, but loggers didn’t make that much money, and even with her part-time job waiting tables at the diner, her family hadn’t had the money for nursing school. Beginning with a descendant who’d first arrived on the peninsula from Seattle to serve at Port Townsend’s Fort Worden in the early 1900s—theoretically to thwart any invasion from the sea—every succeeding generation of Robinsons had had at least one military family member. Which was why Zoe, an only child without any brothers to carry on the tradition, had decided that letting the Army pay for college only made sense.
She and Seth had continued to date while she’d gone to school at UW, returning home on the weekends and for holidays. Although everyone in Honeymoon Harbor knew they were destined to spend their lives together, Seth had officially proposed on New Year’s Eve of Zoe’s final year, and after her graduation, once she’d been commissioned as a second lieutenant, they’d married in a simple ceremony held in the Moments in Time meadow at Lake Crescent Lodge in Olympic National Park.
Because Seth was a civilian, rather than wear her dress uniform, Zoe had chosen to be married in a simple white silk shantung sheath, while Brianna, who’d returned home from her job at the Winfield Palace Hotel in Atlanta to serve as one of Zoe’s two attendants, had worn a sleeveless dress with a flared skirt in a soft, dusty pink that mirrored the mountains’ icy glaciers at sunrise. The other bridesmaid, Kylee Campbell, had gone with a matching style in a kelly green that echoed the bright new needles on the fir trees surrounding the town.
After a weekend honeymoon at the lodge where President Franklin Roosevelt had once slept, Seth had stayed behind on the peninsula while Zoe headed off to San Antonio for more training. Afterward she’d gotten her choice assignment to serve at Joint Base Lewis-McChord’s Madigan Army Medical Center north of Olympia. So they’d moved into a rental near the base and considered themselves even more fortunate when she’d gotten to stay there for all four years of her active duty.
Although Brianna was busy moving from town to town, hotel to hotel, Zoe had kept her up to date with phone calls and texts. After finishing her active duty, the couple had returned to Honeymoon Harbor, where they moved into a house Seth got busy renovating. Zoe had been so excited about the house, texting pictures of the progress and links to Pinterest pages of ideas she had for making the small cottage perfect. She still owed the Army four years of Individual Ready Reserves, which apparently hadn’t seemed any big deal because it only involved mustering once a year, which she could even do online.
Tragically, just as her IRR time was coming to an end, she’d been deployed to Afghanistan, only to be killed in a suicide bombing at the hospital while on duty.
In the midst of transitioning from the Ritz-Carlton,