Return to Pelican Inn (Love by Design) (20 page)

Blood pounded through her temples and her breath came in gasps. “Told me what?”

“That for some impractical, lunatic reason that I cannot fully explain, I love you, too.”

The words circled in the air, teasing her, taunting her.

Then he kissed her, his palms cupped around her face, until she pulled away. Her breath came in shuddery gasps.

He gazed at her with wide eyes. “When I’m with you, I feel like the man I was meant to be.”

She’d been deposited in a dream. Somehow, during her walk along the beach, another universe had sucked her in—one where Pike loved her back. It must not be real, but his touch on her face was too exquisite to be imagined.

Tears trickled down her cheeks and he brushed them away with gentle fingers.

“Rosa, I want to be perfectly honest here. I’m a mess.”

“Join the club,” she whispered.

He stroked her hair, her neck, tracing the line of her jaw. “My situation, at the moment, has gone completely belly-up. I’m going to have to make some changes in my life. Will you still love me then?”

She twined her arms around his neck, feeling the quick, steady beat of the blood pumping through his throat. “Yes, Pike, I think I will.”

“In spite of the established fact that I am an idiotic, hardheaded, screwdriver-dropping, boat burner?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

They kissed again, mingling their past and future, letting loose the mistakes and sorrows, until only joy remained.

“How did this happen?” Pike said, dazed.

“I’m pretty sure it was your fault.”

“It’s crazy that we love each other.”

“Yes.”

A smile broke across his face like an unsteady wave. “I think all great love stories are a little crazy, don’t you? Antony and Cleopatra. Lucy and Desi. Sonny and Cher.”

“Kermit and Miss Piggy,” she breathed.

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Black & Decker.”

She giggled. “That’s a tool company.”

“Who cares?”

She did not know how much time passed while she lingered there in the circle of his arms, wreathed in the smoke from the dying fire, until she heard a discreet clearing of a throat. Bitsy and Manny stood, hand in hand, watching. Bitsy’s smile was enormous, Manny’s expression somewhat dubious.

“We thought we saw you going this way, Rosa. Fancy meeting you, also, Pike.” Bitsy laughed. “I guess the beach is made for lovers.”

Pike tightened his arms around Rosa’s waist. “I guess you’re right.”

Manny poked a toe at the pile of boat parts ready to go into the fire. “I know this boat.”

She felt Pike stiffen and his chin dropped.

Manny looked from the ruins to Pike. The fire crackled and hissed. “Was a shame to sink it. She was a beauty. Prettiest little boat I ever did see.”

Pike looked at Manny. “You were right about my father.”

Rosa wondered at what it must have cost Pike to push out those words.

Manny locked eyes on Pike and searched his face. He gave a slight nod. “Being right isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He took the photo packet from his pocket and tossed it into the fire, and all four of them watched it burn, sending up flames of red and green as the evidence blackened into ashes.

Rosa could not speak. She had never been more proud of her father than she was at that moment. Pike let her go and walked over to Manny, offering him a handshake.

“Thank you, Mr. Franco.”

He shook Pike’s hand. “Past is past. On to the future. You’re going to take care of my princess?”

“As much as she’ll let me.”

One more long look passed between the two men. Rosa didn’t know what they resolved in that silent moment, but when their hands parted, something had changed.

Manny wrapped an arm around Bitsy’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe it actually worked.” The older woman sighed.

Rosa was glad to return to the warmth of Pike’s side. “What worked?”

“Oh, never mind.” Bitsy yawned widely. “Time to go home. I’m exhausted and I think there’s sand in my walking boot.”

“I’ll drive you,” Rosa said. “Be there in a minute, okay?”

Though she did not think it possible, Bitsy smiled even wider and a giggle escaped her lips. “Of course. Take all the time you need.” Manny took her elbow and they sauntered away.

Pike lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling she’s up to something?”

“You never know with Aunt Bitsy. She’s crafty.”

They stood watching the fire cast its sparks into the night sky. “I may never have enough money to restore
Poppy’s Dream,
” Pike said with a deep sigh.

“Maybe not, but as long as you’ve got the pieces, then there’s a chance.”

He turned her to face him. “Rosa Franco, you are an amazing woman. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”

“I don’t know why, either,” she said, and he covered her grin with a kiss.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

T
HE
DAY
BEFORE
the contest deadline, the telephone call came. Rosa heard the serious timbre in Bitsy’s voice so she put down her sandpaper to investigate, leaving Pike attempting to thread curtain rings onto a rod in the West Bedroom while dropping every third one. He had been absent from the project for long periods of time, and Rosa got no explanations in spite of all her prying. He was, in a word, different, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, a little flame lit inside that made his chocolate eyes glow and a smile turn up the corners of his mouth. He had even attempted whistling, an off-key, warbling affair. She could not stop looking at him, awestruck at the thought that she’d both lost her heart and found it again in one man.

But something prickled at Rosa’s practical self. She had a business to run. There had already been a small job offered to Dollars and Sense, starting after the contest wrapped, a result of the publicity they’d received, plus a few telephone inquiries. And Pike had a law practice to tend to, with an office already established and a small client base that he dared not lose. So what would happen when they parted ways to tend to the logistics of their jobs? He had not asked her to stay or mentioned any plans for a future together.

And what about Manny? She and Cy had still not come up with a plan.

Rosa shoved her bangs out of her face and went to investigate Bitsy’s phone call. She waved Rosa in. “Thank you very much,” Bitsy said, as she hung up.

“Well, that’s that.” Bitsy blinked hard. “The inn has been sold. The deal will close next week.” Rosa didn’t ask the particulars. She knew the news was both welcome and painful.

They embraced, and this time it was Rosa who offered comfort in the kitchen of the old house where Bitsy had taken them in so many years ago. “I’m sorry.”

Bitsy sniffed. “Me, too, but at least it didn’t interfere with the contest, and maybe this buyer will see some value in the old bird rather than tear her down.” Her eyes drifted upward. “Oh, Leo. What would you say if you knew the Pelican was no longer ours?”

Rosa squeezed her hands. “He would understand. I know it.”

Bitsy chewed her lip. “What about the...” She pointed a finger in the direction of the Captain’s Nest. “I want to protect Leo’s reputation. It’s the only thing I can offer now.”

Pike appeared in the kitchen, white hat and overalls glaring in the sunlight. “It’ll be okay, Bitsy. I promise. Rocky and I came up with a plan to dispose of those things.”

“You did?” Rosa gaped. “What are we going to do? Hide the booty in the window seat?”

“That is not for you to know at the present time, young grasshopper,” Pike said, bending to kiss her on the nose. “As I see it, we have another priority right now. By my watch we have only twenty-three hours until the judges arrive, right?”

“Yes,” Rosa agreed. She could practically hear the clock ticking away.

“So what are we standing around here gabbing about?” Bitsy said, after a deep breath. “Let’s get a move on.”

And they did. Everyone from Stu to the hobbled Bitsy worked harder than they ever had in their lives. Paint was spread, floors were swept, decorations were staged and fresh flowers were arranged in antique bottles throughout the inn until the place was perfumed with the scent of mums.

There were things, to Rosa’s deep dismay, that did not get done. The entry hall cried out for the rustic sea-grass bench that had not been purchased due to evaporating funds. Of course, the pendant lamps that Rosa had spotted in a catalogue had not been bought or installed, and Cy hadn’t had the time to fabricate cheaper copies of the gorgeous things. To Cy’s chagrin, the perfect antique clock hadn’t found its way into the foyer.

She forced herself to look at the marvelous accomplishments as they did the final walk-through. The kitchen was now light and airy with splashes of blue, the window looking out onto a glorious garden revived by Stu and Rocky. Rocky had even managed to apply a coat of sparkling white paint to the frame of the chicken coop. The place was worthy of the proud Esmerelda. Perhaps best of all, Stu’s breathtaking stained glass gave a soft, welcoming glow to the foyer and front hallway, bathing the entrance in the comforting hues of home.

Pike nodded in satisfaction at the sitting room. “Curtains are perfect, striping spot on and the carpet is great. Manny is a texturing genius. You can’t even tell Rocky had to whack a section out of the wall, can you?”

She couldn’t. Nor could she discern that the West Bedroom had been dull and dreary only a few days before. Now it was splendid in a subtle pear color with sheer drapes that billowed ever so gently in the ocean breeze that whispered through the open window—just as she had pictured it in her imagination. Best of all was the collection of maps, which no one, except possibly Cy, would be able to identify as reproductions. They told the tale of Mr. Herzberg’s life, his family’s migration from England to New York, Harold’s perilous journey across the Isthmus of Panama, the goldfields that produced nothing for him except a will to succeed. And, finally, the map of the same rugged California coast where the Pelican had found a place to roost.

She breathed in deeply. It was not perfect, but it was home.

At least, for a little while longer, she told herself, fighting a sting in her eyes.

At quarter past seven, her stomach growling, she left her last-minute fussing and made for the kitchen. Bitsy had left a note along with a plate of tuna sandwiches. “Manny and I are running an errand. Don’t wait up.”

She couldn’t imagine what the errand might be at that hour. Cy wasn’t around, either, having decided to snag a few more pieces of driftwood, if he could find them, for the front porch display. Rosa sat down and ate a tuna sandwich, supplementing Baggy’s kibble with a few mouthfuls of fish.

“Do you think we’re going to win tomorrow, Bags?”

His tail wagged in an “of course there’s no one better in the whole universe than you, Rosa Franco” kind of way. She scratched him under the chin until his good eye began to roll in the same direction as the other. Since prowling the inn one more time would only result in a short trip to crazy town, Rosa picked Baggy up and trudged to the attic. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, each step echoed, leaving her weary by the time she got to the top. Farther up the darkened stairway, the Captain’s Nest protected its treasures, the purloined bits of history to which Leo had helped himself. She wondered what Mr. and Mrs. Herzberg would have thought about the thefts. Happy their treasures were in their rightful home? Scandalized at the thought that they had been disbursed in the first place?

The old doubts niggled at her, pushing against the joy that had ballooned in her heart since the bonfire at the beach. Would they lose? Where would Manny go? What if the happiness she felt evaporated along with tomorrow morning’s fog?

She wished Pike was there, but everyone, it seemed, had a mission tonight except her. The smell of something delicious caught her attention as she opened the attic door. Baggy’s, too. His nostrils quivered and one ear rose to attention.

On the little table sat a plate with a foil-wrapped cylinder. The unmistakable aroma told her it was a hot dog, and next to it was a bottle of ketchup and jars of mustard and relish, complete with plastic spoons. A note was scrawled in pencil on the back of a receipt for ten rolls of masking tape.

The inn is perfect. You’re already a winner. Love you, P.

She laughed out loud.
Love you, love you, love you.

“I love you, too, Pike,” she said out loud. Baggy seemed to nod, as if to add his canine blessing to the pronouncement.

Never had she tasted such a succulent hot dog as that one, cold though it was. Baggy thought so, too, she could tell. With a light heart, she lay down and slept.

* * *

W
HEN
B
AGGY
WOKE
her after a couple of hours, Rosa sat up, confused.

Cy snored on the cot next to her, arm flung over his eyes.

A scraping sound came from the hallway. Rosa deposited Baggy on his bed and cracked the door. A flashlight beam flickered by her, moving towards the Captain’s Nest. Curiosity piqued, Rosa tiptoed up a few steps, coming behind the figure turning the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

The figure jerked upright with a shout and dropped the flashlight. “Rosa,” Pike hissed. “You gave me a heart attack.”

She tried to hide her smile. “That’s what happens when you sneak around in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not sneaking, I’m...reverse burglaring.”

“Huh?”

“I’m returning the stolen goods to the history museum.”

She blinked. “You’re going to break into the museum and put Uncle Leo’s stolen goods there?”

“Well, yes.” He scratched at his knit cap. “Where else would they be better appreciated? Julio will have an out-of-body experience.”

Reverse burglaring. This was a crime that could only occur in the oddball town of Tumbledown. She giggled. “This I’ve gotta see. I’m coming along.”

“No. Bad idea. If I get caught, I don’t want any negative publicity for you. That’s why I didn’t tell Bitsy or anyone else, either. I’m prepared to take the fall.”

“Yeah, because it will look really good when it comes out that Aunt Bitsy has been hiding stolen goods, and her nephew, the man I love, who smuggles hot dogs, is also a reverse burglar.”

He grinned, twirling the flashlight in a perfect loop before he dropped it. “You love me, huh?”

“Yes.”

“And you liked the hot dog?”

She laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, you nut. Let me get my coat.”

“And your keys.”

“Why can’t you drive?”

“A Nissan is the perfect getaway car.”

Of course it was. And Pike, lawyer-turned-reverse-burglar, was the perfect man to plan the reverse heist. Giggling, she prepared for her short-lived criminal career.

* * *

T
HE
G
REAT
E
SCAPES
T
EAM
came at ten in the morning, all half dozen of them, Wanda trailing along behind, jotting notes and peering over the top of her glasses. In spite of the residual fatigue from their breaking-and-entering adventure the night before, Rosa wanted to sprint after them, urging them to notice the touches she and the others had poured into the inn with such love.
Look here. Did you miss the multihued pillows? How about that perfect color palette?

Cy dragged her to the garden and made her sit on a charming split-wood bench, chewing her fingernail and tapping her foot until the team emerged once again on the porch, exactly an hour and a half later.

“Excellent job,” the suited leader of the pack said, shaking Rosa and Cy’s hands with great solemnity. “Amazing what you accomplished with five thousand dollars.”

“Four thousand ninety-eight dollars and fifty-three cents,” Rosa could not help correcting.

He laughed. “Right. We’ll do a live stream from the
Great Escapes
office later today to announce the winner.”

And then they were gone.

She went back into the inn and flopped down on the couch on her back, eyes closed. “It’s over. We’ve done all we can do,” she said to no one.

Baggy leaped up to join her, perhaps thinking it was a bit early for a nap, but who was he to complain? She heard cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen. Perhaps someone might be starting on lunch preparations. She should assist, if she could just find the energy to haul herself off the cushions. A knock on the front door sent Baggy into barking mode.

Pike cracked the door and stuck his head in. “Hey. How did it go? I’ve been pacing on the beach, waiting until the coast was clear.”

She sat up, a torrent of words waiting to escape. “I don’t know,” she wailed instead. “What if they didn’t like it?”

He laughed and swept her into his arms. “How could they not?” he murmured into her ear, which sent her heart thumping. “We had mossy green stripes.”

Joy filled her up again. “I didn’t see your car in the lot.”

“So you’ve been checking for me?”

“Er, well...” Her cheeks went hot.

Another rap at the door cut off his reply. Baggy soldiered ahead and barked again at the next comer.

Nester stood on the front porch, peering over the top of a tall white cake spangled with pink flowers. “I’m not much of a cake baker, you understand, but I did the best I could. Sharma did the flowers. She’ll be by later. It’s the right time, isn’t it?”

Rosa stared at the puffy white confection. “Time for what?”

“In here,” Bitsy called from the kitchen.

Nester walked by her and slid the cake onto the dining room table. The next to arrive were Rocky and Stu, bearing a large bouquet of fresh-cut roses. Baggy was too fatigued to rally much more than one thin yap. “Time?” Rocky asked.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Rosa replied.

Julio entered from the kitchen, singing “That’s Amore” in a loud baritone. Baggy buried his head in Rosa’s armpit. When the last tone died away, Rosa dared ask.

“Why the serenade?”

“Because it is a moment of celebration,” he boomed. “A time when the long tradition of family started by Mr. Herzberg and his family way back in 1867 has continued on into the present, connected by the seamless threads of love. Not only that,” he said, round cheeks wobbling. “A miracle has occurred. What did I find when I opened up the museum this morning? Mr. Herzberg’s treasured possessions. His maps, his portrait. Returned, as if the hand of time plucked these missing gems from their secret dwelling places and deposited them in our museum. Of course, we’ll return the map to Nester, unless he would like to donate it to the museum.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Rosa said, ignoring Pike’s outlandish eye roll.

“It is, indeed. Mrs. Mendez can hardly stop talking about it. She’s been on the phone all day.”

“Okay, that’s pretty amazing.” Rosa tried again. “But why are you singing?” Her mind traveled on ahead. Cake. Flowers. Singing. All that was missing was a voluminous white dress.