Island of Deceit (21 page)

Harper laughed. “You got that right.”

There was no way on God's green earth Harper was going to give all this goodness up.

He stroked Barbara's shoulder, then lifted her hand and rubbed the ring on her finger.

He'd find a way to keep her.

While most Americans went shopping on Black Friday, business owners on the island hustled to finish getting their Christmas decorations up. Paradise Island was fifty years behind most of the country. Naomi was also on the community planning committee and she'd deemed it sacrilegious to have Christmas lights up before Thanksgiving. It was a holiday that needed to be celebrated without the interference of another.

Business owners were out in full force putting final touches on Christmas decorations, instead of heading to Norfolk and Virginia Beach to shop. And those who did escape to shop were sure to be back before sundown when the lights went on in the town square.

Barbara was a business owner now. For the most part, her decorations were up, but they wouldn't be lit until tonight. Trent had hung the lights before he left, but Liane helped with the last minute details.

“Harper's Santa?” Liane asked.

Barbara nodded.

“All that muscle and a washboard stomach? Guess he'll be wearing a pillow.”

“Guess so.”

“He's tall enough. I'd sit on his lap. God knows he's handsome.”

Barbara laughed. “We won't see much of his face, though.”

When dusk came, hundreds of people gathered in front of the courthouse waiting for the mayor to light the tree. Parents pointed out to their children the live reindeer in its pen.

Even Santa's chair was waiting for him, and “elves” served hot chocolate and apple cider, cookies, and brownies to raise money for Harper's youth program.

When the mayor lit the tree, the crowd erupted in cheers and lights began to go on all around. Even some of the boats in the harbor had lights strung on them.

Children ran to the Santa line. One of Alyssa's brother's had been harangued into taking pictures.

Barbara, Liane, and Liane's friend, Steve, walked around.

When the last child had sat on Harper's lap, Barbara approached him.

“Santa, I have a long list of things I want for Christmas.”

“Oh, do you now? Come closer and whisper them all in Santa's ear.”

Barbara laughed but moved closer.

Harper grabbed her and swung her onto his lap. She squealed, drawing everyone's attention.

“Harper!” She was so embarrassed. The crowd clapped and cheered around her.

“So, what do you want Santa to bring you?” he asked with a wicked grin.

“It's a long, long list,” she said, just as she heard the camera snap. She turned around and several people were snapping pictures. She also spotted Andrew at the edge of the crowd, scowling, before he turned and walked toward the ferry.

 

Barbara debated what to do. It was Monday, and at seven she had breakfast with Liane at the B&B before Liane's flight back to New York.

Liane lifted Barbara's hand for a better view of the ring. “Harper has very good taste.”

“He's very good at a lot of things, Liane.” She inhaled before saying, “I've decided to tell him everything. I might lose him, but that's the chance I took from the beginning when I took this path. I never, not in a million years, expected to find a man like him to love me. And the wonderful thing is I love him, too.”

Liane quirked an eyebrow. “What did your grandmother say about doubting Thomases?”

“What she said was I didn't trust in the Lord enough. That miracles happened when you least expect them. Liane, I hope I'm not too late for my miracle.”

“There you go again with all the doubts. Who says you'll lose him? He loves you, honey. You're human. He can't expect perfection.”

“He's been betrayed before and he'll see this as another betrayal.”

“Hey, he's no spring chicken…”

Barbara smiled. “You've never seen him in action.”

Liane rolled her eyes. “What I'm saying is he's old enough to know life isn't perfect. If he's expecting perfection from you, then he's not the man for you. Because he's going to make a few mistakes along the way, too, and he expects you to forgive him.”

Barbara shook her head doubtfully. “Men are…” Barbara searched for a descriptor.

“I know they can be asses, but some are good. And it looks like Harper's a winner.”

“Until you get on the wrong side of his ethics.”

“Here,” Liane said, placing both of her hands palm up on the table. “Give me your hands.”

Barbara clasped her hands.

“I've spent so much time with your grandmother that I feel I know her.”

“She loved you,” Barbara whispered, giving Liane's hand a little squeeze.

“Okay, this is Granny talking. Trust. Trust love, trust that what you have is true and you were sent here at this moment in time for a purpose. This move didn't just happen out of the blue. Your grandmother's time was up. She lived a wonderfully full life and you enhanced that life….”

“But…”

“Even though you'd made plans to be together after your retirement, she didn't wait around for life to happen. She lived every day, every moment to the fullest. How many hours did she spend in soup kitchens after her retirement? Look at the work she accomplished in church. She was a scrapper to the very end. I know she gave the Stones hell for taking her money and that's why they killed her. And they're not going to get away with it.”

“No, they aren't,” Barbara muttered, her chin lifting.

“The two of you took vacations every year to places she would have never seen without you. You were a blessing for each other. And she gave you wisdom. Now she's sent you home. Home to Paradise Island to meet your future. Embrace it with both hands. Forget all the doubts. Forget the ‘what ifs.' You've almost accomplished your goal. Let Harper help you. Let Harper be a part of this. I'm glad you're going to talk to him, because it's letting him enter into a segment of your life you've kept closed from him, and that shouldn't be.”

Seconds ticked by as they regarded each other. Barbara could imagine her grandmother saying just that. She'd thought she'd let her grandmother down by not being there, not helping her when she needed help most in her last hours. And she was angry that her grandmother went after the Stones without telling her, without waiting for her. But it wasn't her grandmother's way to sit back and wait when she felt the need to take action.

Liane was right. By telling Elliot about this place, her grandmother had sent the Stones here and thereby sent Barbara here, too.

“Thanks for being my friend, Liane,” Barbara said. “I miss you.”

“Yeah. well.” They unclasped hands and Liane sipped her coffee. “There's a certain man I met who's spending a couple of weeks here during Christmas. You better believe I'll be back.”

Barbara laughed. “I'm looking forward to it. Any chance in talking you into staying in my house this time? I might not be there.”

“Not on your life. You're a fabulous cook, but after you cook, I'd feel responsible for the dishes. But never fear. Mrs. Claxton informed me that the rooms are all booked in May for the crab fest, so I'll have to stay with you then.”

“I have a dishwasher. I know how you feel about housework. I won't make you do dishes. Promise. You'll be my pampered guest.”

“At the B and B, I get fed and don't have to feel guilty. And I wouldn't have met Mr. Charming if I'd stayed with you.”

Barbara raised her eyebrows. “You're going to have to tell me more about Mr. Charming. You didn't give up your goodies to this guy already, did you?”

Liane pursed her lips. “I'll never tell.”

Barbara laughed.

“Besides, if I don't get moving, I'll miss my flight. We have to have something to talk about on the phone. Are you going to tell Harper about the money?”

“Yes, but I'm not handing it over to him. It's still in the safety deposit box. I'm going to divide and distribute it next week.”

The women embraced before Liane left. Then Barbara went to get breakfast to take to Harper.

When she drove by the sheriff's office, his car was parked out front.

She rehearsed what she'd say to him, the way she'd often done for difficult clients.

The secretary was on the phone. Barbara pointed toward Harper's office and the woman waved her back. Of course she was one of her clients, and when she saw the bag from the B&B, she made an “okeydoke” sign with her hand.

Barbara laughed and continued on back to knock on his door. With the terse “Come in,” she opened it, then stopped when she saw officers in there with him.

“Come on in. We're finished here,” he said, standing.

The officers cleared out and the last person closed the door behind him.

“Have a seat,” Harper said.

“I can see you're busy. But I wanted to bring you breakfast and tell you that tonight we need to talk.”

Harper nodded. “About what?”

“I love you,” she said. “But there are some things I need to tell you and then you can decide if you still want to marry me.”

“That sounds ominous. But whatever you tell me won't change my love for you, Barbara. It's solid.”

“I need to talk to you about the reason I came here. And that will take time. There are some things you don't know about me, and if we move forward…well.” She paused. “We'll talk tonight.”

He nodded. “I'll leave here at five.”

“Enjoy your breakfast.” She kissed him again, lingered over it, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt comforted by his touch, but nervous, too, because she was taking a chance on losing all this. But that was exactly what she had to do.

“I love you,” she said, then left.

Finally,
Harper thought as he watched the sway of Barbara's backside as she walked away. It had taken a while for her to trust him, but finally.

Belatedly, he glanced at the container of food she'd left for him. The aroma mixed with her pleasing perfume.

He opened the top. Plain toast, one scrambled egg, and cinnamon oatmeal. He liked the B&B food, but Barbara's oatmeal couldn't be beat. She'd complained that the three-egg omelets he devoured were too much. Harper sighed. He was going to have to get used to healthier food.

Small sacrifices.

She'd been in bed when he left earlier than usual that morning. It had felt good knowing she was safe there. He took the plastic fork out of the package. That's what Barbara didn't understand. He wanted someone who cared about him, and whom he cared about, too—concerned enough to take the time to bring him food when he was perfectly capable of getting it for himself.

He dropped the fork onto his plate, dialed Sam's place, and put in an order to have a nice arrangement of flowers delivered to his house. Barbara would be there today.

 

Trent left D.C. late Monday morning. He was driving against the D.C. rush-hour traffic, thank goodness. It was eight and the traffic travelling north was still bumper to bumper. By the time he would reach Hampton and Norfolk, the traffic in that area should have diminished.

With his pedal to the metal, he pushed forward, thinking about his mother's progress. It was going to take time for her to gain her weight and strength back, but at least she was finally moving forward. They'd enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner—even if it wasn't quite as tasty and elaborate as her dinners usually were. And he'd walked with her through the neighborhood each day. Some of her neighbors had come out to tell her how glad they were to see her out and about.

As soon as he got to the island, he was going to have that talk with Barbara. He was sure she'd help him.

 

Dinner was almost ready. Barbara had prepared an easy cassoulet without the fuss and fat of the original French dish. While the dinner was in the oven, Barbara wrote letters to the women Elliot had bilked, telling them she had a portion of the money and would be mailing it to them within a couple of weeks. The money was still in the safety deposit box. She wished there was a way for her to get more. But this was better than nothing.

After she finished writing the letters, she went outside to clean up a little around the fire pit and placed some soft pillows she'd purchased earlier on the wooden swing where Harper and she made love. Her backside had gotten a couple of splinters the other night. Hopefully they'd sit outside in Harper's favorite place after dinner and after their talk.

Then she went inside to shower and dress. On her way downstairs the doorbell rang. She peeped through the window. Sam's florist truck was in the yard. Frowning, Barbara opened the door.

It was Sam standing with a humungous bouquet.

“I was given specific instructions for this,” Sam said. “That there would be dire consequences if I didn't get it right.” He offered one of his rare smiles. “To Barbara Turner. Are you by chance Ms. Turner?” he asked when she still hadn't spoken.

“I can't believe it. What did I do to deserve these?”

“Only you can tell,” Sam said. “They're heavy. I'll take them in for you. Where do you want them?”

“On the kitchen counter.”

After placing them there he handed her a bud vase with two roses, a fern, and baby's breath. “This goes with it.”

“Oh, thank you. Let me get you a tip.”

“Nope. I charged him enough for these.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Enjoy,” he said, backing out the door.

Barbara closed the door and rushed to the kitchen, pulling the card out of its stand. It read:
To a special woman.

Barbara stood for a moment, letting the words sink in. She would not second-guess the outcome of tonight. He loved her. He'd help make this work.

Candles would look wonderful on either side of the flowers. Harper should be home in an hour, she thought, then remembered they'd used all the candles. It was closer to drive to the grocer than to her house, so she made a quick trip.

Elliot was walking toward his car when she spotted him at the supermarket.