Spring Comes To Barncastle Inn (10 page)

BOOK: Spring Comes To Barncastle Inn
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Peter cheered. “You're catching him, Marin!”

             
But the finish line lay less than three yards away.

             
The little boy's egg crossed first. “I won!” He jumped up and down, nearly stepping on his egg.

             
Marin stood up straight, barely a yard from the finish line. “No fair!” she growled, then kicked her egg. Shell sprayed across on the grass. Marin stomped away, her hands clutched into fists. She slung the spoon onto the lawn and headed off toward the main house, yanking from her hair the purple ribbon she'd been so proud of moments before.

             
“Marin Kaye Appleman!” Peter called out. “Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert, my apologies. I'll collect my daughter and have her clean up the mess, and apologize as well.”

             
Peter didn't miss Luke's sympathetic look. He hurried off after Marin.

             
What was he going to do? Marin had a flair for the dramatic, but he didn't recall her ever acting out quite like this. Not in anger, anyway. He picked up his pace and caught up with her. Tears poured down her face.

**

“He's definitely got his hands full with that young lady,” Luke said as they poured cups of lemonade.

             
“Yes, it looks like it.” Sadie's hand shook as she picked up an empty cup.

             
“You're doing the right thing, you know.”

             
“How so?”

             
“Giving the man some time.”

             
“I don't know.” Sadie fanned herself with her hand. The warmth of the day still found its way under the tent. She should have added a frilly fan to her costume. “I hope I am. Last night he seemed to make it clear what he wants. If he's not ready, he's not ready.”

             
“Last night, he was worried about his daughter.”

             
“Of course, as he should be. But, Luke, I don't want to be second, or even third priority to the man I love. I don't want to feel as if I'm competing with a child for his attention.” The guests sipped lemonade. Oh, to be so carefree. Someone brought out the croquet set, and Andy kept busy hammering wickets into the ground on the lawn that showed green shoots of spring. “I know it was a similar situation with you and Jayne, but still it was different.”

             
“I still had to be ready, though. When I met Jayne, I knew I was.” He smiled, as though traveling down memory lane. “My in-laws, especially my mother-in-law, took the news a little hard at first. They thought I was trying to replace Edie, Andy's mother. But I wasn't. No one can replace another. However, I knew when the time was right, I wanted Jayne in my life, for keeps. At first, when Andy woke with night terrors, he'd cry for Edie. That hurt Jayne a little, but she understood. But now, you see them together—it's as if she's always been in his life. I think Edie would have liked that, very much.”

             
Her cousin had married a fine man. Of that, Sadie had no doubt. She also knew Peter had those same qualities.

             
“Thanks, Luke.”

             
Here came Peter and Marin, her face flushed red after her father had made her clean up the mess she'd made by kicking the hard-boiled egg. Peter's brow furrowed, but he held Marin's hand tenderly.

             
“Marin.” He glanced down at his daughter.

             
“Mr. Gilbert, I'm very sorry.” Marin's lip quivered. “I was a poor loser. I'm sorry for making the mess, and I'm still upset for not winning.” She glanced over to where young Patrick Donnelly tore into his prize candy basket for winning the race.

             
“You're forgiven, Miss Appleman.” Luke held out a cup of lemonade. “Now, for some lemonade. There are also plates, finger sandwiches, and cake at the other side of the table.”

             
“Thank you, Mr. Gilbert.” Marin flicked a glance at Sadie, who didn't miss the flash of pride in the little girl's eyes.

             
“Go get some cake, and some sandwiches,” Peter said. “I must speak with Miss Barncastle for a few moments.”

             
Marin frowned and stepped toward the food.

             
“Oh, you must speak with me?” Sadie asked as he offered her his arm. “I can spare a few moments, Mr. Appleman.”

             
“Yes, only for a few moments.” He covered her hand with his, and they stepped away from the tent, out of earshot of everyone else. “Okay, we don't have to stay in character here.”

             
“No, we don't.” Her pulse pounded in her throat. “Peter—”

             
“About last night—”

             
“I care for you Peter, I can't help but care. If you're not ready, you're not ready.” She swallowed hard. “I can't and won't force that.”

             
“I care for you, too. It's only been a few weeks, but everything has changed.” He reached a hand up, as if to touch her face.

             
“Please, don't. It's hard enough for me right now...” She bit her lip. Don't cry, don't cry. “I won't compete for your affections with a ten-year-old. I'm not saying forget about Kate, or ignore Marin, but—”

             
“You're not competing for my affections. Marin has nothing to do with us.” He took both of her hands in his.

             
“Yes, she does. And she will. If I take you, I take her too. I'm not saying I expect her to be one-hundred-percent in favor of you and me, together. Not right now, anyway. She's lost her mom, left her home. But, I want you to be one hundred percent in favor of us.” She allowed herself to squeeze his hands back.

             
“Oh, Cousin Sadie, would you please fetch more napkins from the pantry?” Jayne called out across the lawn.

             
“Yes, Cousin Jayne,” Sadie responded. “Peter, I need to go.” She forced herself to pick up her skirt with one hand and scurried toward the rear entrance of the house.

 

             

Chapter 10

 

Well, he deserved that from Sadie. Sort of.

              The remainder of the day dragged with an afternoon of yard games culminating with an egg hunt. Marin had a foul mood, but Peter wasn't about to give in or sympathize with her. Yes, losing stunk. But so did bad behavior and sore losing.

             
“I don't want to go to the sunrise church service tomorrow. I want to go to the big church in Brattleboro,” Marin announced that evening, flouncing into Peter's office and flopping onto the chair in the corner.

             
“Thank you for your input, but we're going to the Barncastle service.” Until then, he hadn't decided what he was going to do, come Sunday morning: Go to their usual church, or visit the inn and support his neighbors. He also really wanted to see the prayer garden Luke had built to honor Jayne's late mother.

             
“It's so early.”

             
“You get up earlier than that to make it to the bus stop for school.” He saved the current document, and closed his email. One personal policy he'd adopted was whenever Marin entered his office, he'd put work on hold and spend time with her.

             
Maybe he ought to tweak that policy a little. Peter regarded the brunette thundercloud sitting on the easy chair, her arms crossed over her chest. She'd grown a bit demanding. Part of him wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, but then again, he didn't want her to become a rude, demanding—dare he think the word about his own daughter?—brat.

             
“Humph.”

             
“We're still going. It's a special service, and we're going to have church by the pond. I think you'll like it.”

             
“Okay.”

             
“Still love me?”

             
“To there and back again,” Marin replied with a smile. She left the chair, hugged him, and left the room.

             
Peter turned to face his computer screen again.

             
“I won't compete for your affections with a ten-year-old.”                           

             
Of course not. Marin needed him, though. He didn't have someone else to shoulder the responsibility with. His parents, and Kate's, helped when they could, but they weren't her mother, or father.

             
Really, competing for his affections? He clicked on his email, pulling his focus to one last bit of work, so he could afford to take the day off on Monday to spend with Marin out of school.

             
Sadie had a point, though. He needed to be one hundred percent in favor of the two of them, despite Marin's attitude. He had no doubt Marin liked, and even admired, Sadie—as long as it didn't involve Sadie being romantically involved with her father.

             
Their conversation followed him into the evening, and through the night as he tossed and turned, begging sleep to come.

             
He watched the clock's numbers turn from four-fifty-nine to five. He sat up as the alarm sounded. Ha. If they left the house at five-forty they'd be just in time to park and make the hike to the pond, then watch the sun rise as they worshiped together.

             
Peter passed Marin's room, where her dress, tights, and new shoes waited for her to get ready. Their Saturday-night routine of her shower, getting ready for bed, and devotion time had kept them through many dark days.

             
“Morning, sunshine,” he called to her.

             
She grunted, then rolled to one side, nearly sliding off the bed. “Early. It's dark out.”

             
“Yes, get dressed, and I'll get you a breakfast bar to hold you over until we eat.”

             
Marin nodded and yawned.

             
They arrived promptly at ten minutes before six, and a small group waited at the front entrance of the inn.

             
“The Lord has risen,” Luke said, greeting him as he shut the Volvo door.

             
“The Lord has risen, indeed,” Peter answered back. Then, he yawned. “Easter Sunday would have to be early, on the first day of the week, huh?”

             
Luke chuckled. “Little did the writers of the Gospels know that they'd be taking sleep from us believers in centuries to come.”

             
Their crowd numbered nearly twenty. Luke motioned for them to gather.

             
“We're ready to start our hike now.”

             
Peter scanned the group for Sadie. There she stood, wearing a bluish cardigan, T-shirt, and jeans. She smiled at him, but looked away before he could return the smile.

             
They started to walk the wooded trail, with Marin in step beside him. “Why are we going to the pond? Can't we have a service in the barn like the other night?”

             
“We could, but Mr. Luke built something special for Jayne, to honor her mother.”

             
“Oh, okay.”

             
“Jayne's mother passed away three years ago, and she loved to garden. So Luke had a place made by the pond, where people can sit and pray as they look at the water.”

             
“That's nice. I bet Miss Jayne is happy about that.”

             
“I'm sure she is.” They ambled through the woods, and the trail snaked along toward the pond.               When the group arrived at the water's edge, a few gasps came from the crowd, followed by some oohs from the ladies.

             
A cross, made of twisted bands of wrought iron, rose a good eight feet near the water's edge. Granite pavers made a circle in front of the cross. A quartet of stone benches flanked the cross, two on each side.  Between the benches and immediately surrounding the cross, someone had planted petunias and more hardy perennial ground cover.

             
“Jayne,” Luke said, taking his wife's hand, “this is to remind us of your mother.” To the group assembled, he added, “If you'd all like to take seats, we can get started.”

             
Sean and Marcella McSweeney led them in a hymn as Sean played guitar, their harmonies floating across the pond. Peter sometimes wished he could sing like that. He found the melody where he could. Marin, by his side, sang on pitch. She'd gotten that from her mother, for sure. The idea made him smile.

             
After the hymn, Luke continued. “Thank you all for coming. We thought it fitting to officially begin our monthly holiday celebrations at Barncastle Inn with Easter. For us, it's just as important as Christmas. Easter, Resurrection Sunday, whatever you call our celebration of the resurrection of Christ, means that we have hope. Our hope isn't put in a dead person. Our hope is in someone who's very much now alive, because we believe Christ's words: 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.'”

BOOK: Spring Comes To Barncastle Inn
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