Finding Home (17 page)

As she put the car in gear and pulled onto Highway 101, she faced the first one: the attraction she and Scott had acknowledged was becoming bigger. Deeper. At least on her end. And it was bringing with it a boatload of guilt. How could she be so disloyal to her husband this soon after his death?

That led her to the second truth. One she’d been dancing around for weeks. Somewhere along the way, as Steve’s consulting business had grown and he’d travelled more and more, they’d drifted apart. There’d been no cataclysmic breakdown, no harsh words ever exchanged. She’d continued to love and respect him, and he’d been a fabulous father, but their relationship had grown stale. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt excited in his presence. Even in the beginning, the spark between them had never been as potent as the one between her and Scott.

Which increased her guilt exponentially.

If only...

“Mom! You missed our street!”

At Jarrod’s exclamation, she jammed on the brake, swung into the parking lot of Jaz’s biker bar on the other side of town, and made a U-turn.

“Whoa! That was cool!” Jarrod looked over at her, gripping the dashboard. “I guess you were daydreaming, huh, Mom?”

“I guess I was. And that’s not a smart thing to do while you’re driving.”

Or anytime else when it came to a certain attractive construction guy.

* * *

Where was Gram?

The bottom fell out of Scott’s stomach as he surveyed her empty room. Had she fallen again? Was she back in the E.R.? Why hadn’t anyone called him? He’d seen her yesterday for the facility’s Easter services and brunch, and she’d been fine.

He swung around, strode into the hall and hailed a passing aide he didn’t recognize. No surprise there. The staff turnover at this place was astronomical. It was a huge challenge to keep up with all the newcomers.

Planting his fists on his hips, he blocked her path as she glanced up from the clipboard in her hand. “I’m looking for my grandmother, Barbara Walsh. She’s not in her room.”

The young woman’s eyes widened at his clipped delivery, and she took a step back. “I—I’ll check with the desk.”

“Never mind. I can do that.”

She scurried away, clearly intimidated by his stance and irritation. A twinge of guilt tugged at his conscience, and he hesitated. He hadn’t meant to frighten her—but neither was he going to take the time to apologize. Not until he found out where Gram was.

He continued toward the nurses’ station, only to be intercepted at a T in the hallway by an aide he
did
recognize—accompanying Gram as she pushed her walker toward him.

“Well, look who’s here!” Vivian smiled at him as they drew closer. “And don’t we have some good news today.”

“I don’t know why everyone’s making such a fuss just because I decided to start physical therapy again.” Gram avoided his eyes and kept moving.

“You went back to physical therapy?” Scott stared at her. On top of that news, she’d ditched her nightclothes for a pair of capris and a sweater that had been gathering dust in her closet for months.

“Move aside or I’ll run you over.” Gram shooed him away with a flap of her hand. “And I’m in no mood for a discussion. I hurt.”

“You’re supposed to hurt. It’s not working if you’re not hurting.” Vivian patted her shoulder. “But a couple of pain relievers will take care of those aches. Pretty soon, you’ll be strolling along without this thing.” She tapped the walker.

“That’s my goal.” Gram looked over her shoulder after she passed Scott. “Why are you here so early anyway?”

“The rain shut us down for the day.” He fell in behind the duo.

Vivian motioned him forward. “Why don’t you take over spotting duty while I run and get those painkillers?”

He took the aide’s place and studied Gram, not liking the pinch of pain around her mouth. “Did you check with the doctor about this?”

“Of course I checked with the doctor. He was all for it. An hour later, they’d assigned me to Brett, and let me tell you, he’s a looker. If I’d known they’d put me with someone like him, I’d have gone back to therapy a lot sooner.”

Scott’s lips twitched. “How old is this guy?”

“Old enough to be my great-grandson. But I can enjoy the view, can’t I? Makes me feel young again. And does that boy know how to flirt! You could take a lesson or two from him.”

As they entered her room, he stopped again. He’d been so distraught by her absence he hadn’t noticed the easel and canvas by the window or the paints on a small table beside it. An impressionistic seascape was already beginning to emerge.

“You’ve been busy.”

She crossed to the bed, slowly lowered herself to the mattress and expelled a long breath. “Ah. Better.” She waved at the walker. “Take that thing and put it over in the corner. I hate the sight of it. Always have. Brett and Vivian think I may not need it if I buckle down with the therapy.”

Exactly what he and the doctor had been telling her for months—to no avail.

But the aide and physical therapist weren’t responsible for Gram’s change of heart. Cindy got full credit for that—along with his undying thanks.

“Maybe I better not put the house on the market after all.”

“Let’s not get carried away. But I suppose we might want to delay that step a bit. Why don’t you pull up a... Ah, Cindy! You made it!”

Scott swung around and found Cindy hovering on the threshold. He’d attribute her presence to another matchmaking attempt, except Gram hadn’t known he was going to show up early.

No matter, she’d surely find a way to take full advantage of the opportunity.

“I don’t want to intrude while Scott’s here.” Cindy remained at the door, her expression uncertain.

“Nonsense. You come right in. Isn’t this a cozy coincidence?” Gram gave them a delighted smile.

Scott could think of other words for it.

Skirting around to the other side of Gram’s bed, Cindy addressed him. “How come you’re not in Starfish Bay?”

“Rain delay.”

She cast a glance out the window at the overcast sky, and twin grooves appeared on her brow. “I better not linger if it’s raining up north. The fog might roll in again.”

“I could always offer you a spaghetti dinner.” Scott smiled, captivated by the intense blue of her irises—the same color as the sea off The Point on a sunny day. “Though it wouldn’t be as tasty as yours.”

“You’ve had Cindy’s spaghetti?” Gram’s eyes lit up.

Uh-oh.

He hadn’t told her about his impromptu dinner at Cindy’s the night he’d been stuck in Starfish Bay.

“I took pity on him when I saw him buying a deli sandwich in the general store the night the fog stranded him.” Cindy shot him a sympathetic look, set the overstuffed satchel in her hand on a chair and changed the subject. “I brought you copies of a few of Emma’s letters, but be warned—her old-fashioned handwriting is as difficult to decipher as Elijah’s. Transcribing his logbook has been slow going. I’m going to focus on that, plus his journal and Emma’s letters, this week—starting tonight. I made copies of everything for myself, too.” She pulled a folder out of the satchel and passed it to Gram.

Defenses up, Scott prepared to run interference if Gram returned to the subject of their spaghetti dinner.

Much to his surprise, she didn’t.

“I’ve been reading his journal for the past few days. You’re right. It’s a slow process, and my eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I have to say Elijah had a way with words. I especially liked the April 4, 1898 entry—the one he wrote while he was at sea protecting vessels during the Klondike gold rush. You should take a look at that one. Is the original journal still at the house?”

“Yes. I’d like to finish processing everything there. I hope to begin transporting items to the historical society next week.”

“Excellent.” She turned to Scott. “You check out that entry, too. You might learn a thing or two.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “About the gold rush?”

“No.” Gram pinned him with an intent look. “But it
was
about treasure.”

Although he had no idea what that meant, he suspected it had something to do with Cindy.

“Well...” Cindy hoisted her shoulder purse higher. “I need to beat the fog, but I did want to share one other piece of exciting news. Janice told me there was a young couple in the gallery last weekend, and both the husband and wife were very taken with your painting of Humboldt Bay. She thinks they might be back to make an offer on it.”

For a moment Gram was speechless. “Now wouldn’t that be a kick after all these years?”

“Janice also wanted me to invite you up anytime to visit the gallery. She’d love to meet you.”

“Oh, I haven’t been anywhere much except the doctor’s and the E.R. since I fell.” Gram gave a dismissive wave. “That’s too long a drive.”

“Genevieve and Lillian would like to meet you, too. And the food at the Orchid is fabulous. You should taste their cinnamon rolls. As for the blackberry cobbler...” Scott looked toward the heavens. “Wow.”

“I must say, you two are tempting me.” As she regarded them, Scott could almost hear the gears grinding in her brain. “I believe I might consider it. Maybe next weekend. If Cindy will introduce me to Janice and give me a tour of the town?”

Cindy’s rueful gaze connected with his, verifying she was as attuned to Gram’s matchmaking efforts as he was. “There’s not much to see. Starfish Bay is a tiny village stretched along 101 with a family-friendly biker bar at one end, the Orchid at the other and a few shops in between. A tour would take all of ten minutes.”

“It sounds charming. And afterward, you and Jarrod could join us for lunch at the Orchid. Then Scott could return the favor by showing us around his job site. I’d like to see this inn I’ve been hearing about.”

“I’m sure Cindy has better things to do with her weekend than spend hours with us, Gram.”

“She said herself the tour of the town won’t take but a few minutes, and she and Jarrod have to eat anyway. Why not at the Orchid with us?”

Checkmate.

To his relief, Cindy seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Your logic is hard to refute, Barbara.”

Gram tapped a finger against her head. “My body might be old and stiff, but my brain is as agile as it ever was.”

“And then some,” Scott muttered.

“I heard that.” Gram sent him a withering look, then turned her attention back to Cindy. “It would be such a nice treat, my dear. My first real excursion for pleasure since I moved into this place. Scott’s been after me to get out for ages, but I haven’t been tempted until now.”

Cindy bit her lower lip, and he could guess what she was thinking. She knew how important it was to him to get Gram interested in life again, but she also knew they were being manipulated.

Yet the excursion would do Gram a world of good. And what could happen with Genevieve, Lillian, Janice and Jarrod around?

Apparently Cindy came to the same conclusion because she smiled and shrugged. “I’d be happy to show you around. Would Saturday work for you?”

“Any day is fine. My social calendar is flexible. You work out the details with Scott.” Gram reached over and took Cindy’s hand. “I’ll look forward to the visit, my dear. Thank you. And drive safely going home. Scott will walk you out.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need to bother.” She took a step toward the door, clutching the satchel with both hands. “I don’t want to disrupt your visit any more than I already have. I’m fine on my own.”

“Of course you are. You’re a capable, intelligent woman. But a gentleman always walks a lady to the car—and Scott is a gentleman.”

Circling the bed, he lowered his voice as he bent to relieve Cindy of her satchel. “Don’t fight the current.”

“I heard that, young man. My ears still work, too.”

As Cindy smiled, he chuckled and addressed his grandmother. “Don’t go on any more marathon walks while I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry. I’m done for the night. And you take your time. I’ll amuse myself with these letters Cindy was kind enough to bring.” She tapped the folder in her lap.

Guiding Cindy out of the room, Scott held his tongue, waiting until they were out of earshot before he spoke again. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I can spare an hour or two Saturday if it will help motivate your grandmother.”

“Thanks to you, she’s already motivated. She went to physical therapy today for the first time in months, and she dressed in street clothes.”

Cindy detoured around a wheelchair parked in the hall, its occupant slumped over asleep. Furrows creased her brow. “She doesn’t belong here, Scott.”

“I know—and I think she’s beginning to admit that, too.”

As they crossed the lobby, a rumble of thunder shook the building.

Cindy shivered. “Looks like we’re in for more unsettled weather.”

He pushed the outside door open, following after she exited. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was unsettled, he thought, as he walked beside her to her car, her faint floral aroma mingling with the scent of rain, her blond hair swinging close to his shoulder.