The Heart Remembers (11 page)

“This isn't how it happens in the movies.” Her shoulders shook with laughter.

Jake gave her a stern look. “This isn't going to work if you keep giggling.”

Maggie stifled the giggles—with obvious difficulty. “Sorry. Can we try that again?”

This time their lips briefly connected, but when Jake backed off and checked out her reaction, disappointed was the only word that came to mind. He frowned at her, irritated.

“Now what's wrong?”

“Is that it?” She sounded crestfallen.

Jake's seventeen-year-old pride took a nosedive.
This lesson was getting a lot more complicated than he'd anticipated.

“Maggie, are you really sure you want me to teach you all this?”

Her face fell. “I don't have anyone else to ask, Jake.” She dropped her gaze and played with the edge of her shorts. “But if you don't want to, that's okay. I understand.”

The plaintive note in her voice tugged at his heart, and he reached down and tilted her chin up with a gentle finger. “I said I'd teach you, and I will.” Then, calling on every bit of his limited experience, he set out to do just that.

He reached over and touched her hair, surprised at its softness as it drifted through his fingers. Then he cupped her face with this hands and combed back through her flame-colored tresses, loosening her barrettes in the process until her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He stroked her face, the skin soft and silky beneath his fingers. But she was too far away. He reached down to her waist and pulled her toward him, until her knees touched his as they sat cross-legged facing each other, their faces only inches apart.

At this range, Jake noticed the flecks of gold in her deep green eyes. Funny, he'd never even paid any attention to their color before. But they were beautiful eyes, expressive and—at the moment—a
bit dazed. So maybe his technique wasn't so bad after all.

His confidence bolstered, he reached over and traced the outline of her lips with his fingertip, a whisper-soft touch that made her gasp. Her lips parted ever so slightly—and oh-so-invitingly. She'd be putty in Joe Carroll's hands. Good thing they'd pursued this today. At least now she'd have some idea what to expect, be a little more prepared if some guy tried to take advantage of her innocence and inexperience.

Jake let his hands drop to her shoulders, then framed her face with his hands, marvelling at the softness of her skin. As she gazed up at him, her expression so trusting, his heart did something very strange. It stopped, just for a second, then raced on.

Jake didn't pause to analyze his reaction. Instead, he leaned forward to claim her lips, softly tasting them, before he captured her mouth in a kiss that was perhaps a bit short on technique but very long on passion.

How could he never have noticed before that she had grown up? He'd always thought of Maggie as a kid, a pal, someone to ride bikes and shoot baskets with. But he didn't think of her as a kid right now. The frantic beat of the rain on the tin
roof couldn't compete with the beating of their hearts as their embrace escalated.

When Jake finally realized that things were moving too fast, he broke away abruptly. Somewhere along the way this “lesson” had gotten out of hand, their roles changing from instructor and student to man and woman. And as he gazed down into Maggie's dazed eyes, he realized something else had changed, as well. Namely his life. Somehow he knew it would never be the same again.

Maggie stared up at him, then reached out to trace the contours of his face. He drew in a sharp breath, and captured her hand in his, stilling its sensual movement.

“Enough.” It was all he could manage.

“Wow!” Her response was more breath than word.

He tried to smile but couldn't quite pull it off. “Yeah. Wow!”

“Jake, I…I never expected to feel like…well, anything like this. I feel so…I don't know…fluttery inside. And shaky. And scared. But good, too. All at once. Is it…is it because I've never done this before?”

“I don't think so. I feel the same way, and I've kissed a fair number of girls.”

She struggled to sit up, and he saw with a frown that her hands were shaking. He should have been
gentler, moved more slowly. She'd never even been kissed before. But better him than Joe Carroll. At least he'd had the decency to back off. He doubted Joe would have been as noble.

Jake put his arm around Maggie and pulled her against him until her head rested on his shoulder, smiling as he rubbed his cheek against her hair.

“You know, I never thought of you—of us—romantically before.” Her voice was small and uncertain.

“Me, neither. But I do now.” He stroked her arm. “And you know what? I like it.”

“So do I.”

“You know something else? I have a feeling this may be the start of something pretty wonderful.”

She snuggled closer. “I have the same feeling.”

He backed off just far enough to look down into her emerald eyes, and the warmth of his smile filled her with joy. “Happy birthday, Maggie.” And then he leaned down and claimed her lips in a tender kiss filled with sweet promise.

 

Maggie drew a deep, shaky breath as she stared at the silvered bay through the rough opening in the wall. She wrapped her arms around her body, holding the memories close for just a moment longer, memories of the day their friendship had ripened
into romance. The images had seemed too vivid, so real—so lovely. She hated to let them go.

Had taking shelter in the old fishing shack prompted similar memories in Jake? She turned to find him gazing at her.

“Seems like old times, doesn't it, squirt?” His quiet comment gave her her answer.

Maggie swallowed with difficulty, and turned back to the window. “Yes.”

She felt him move behind her, and her pulse accelerated as he placed his hands on her shoulders and stroked them lightly.

“It's still there, isn't it, Maggie?”

“What?” She wasn't ready to deal with this yet.

With firm but gentle hands he turned her to face him so that she had to look into his eyes. “This.” Slowly he reached over to trace the soft curve of her mouth with a whisper touch.

She closed her eyes and shuddered, willing herself to walk away, knowing she couldn't.

“Jake, I…things have changed. We're not the same people anymore.”

“Not everything has changed.”

She swallowed past her sudden fear. “We should go back.”

“I wish we could.” His regretful tone told her
he wasn't talking about the inn. “But the best we can do is start over. Tonight. Right now.”

And then slowly, very slowly, he leaned toward her until his lips, familiar and warm and tender, closed over hers.

With a soft sigh, Maggie gave up the fight and melted into his arms. She'd known this moment would come since the day she stepped into the dining room seven weeks ago and found him there. Keeping him at arm's length had been a losing battle from the beginning. Right or wrong, she wanted this moment in the arms of the man she'd always loved.

There were differences, of course. The muscular contours of his chest were more developed, harder, than she remembered. His arms were stronger, more sure, than she recalled, holding her with a practiced skill that had been absent twelve years ago. His mouth moved over hers with a new adeptness.

The passion, though—that was the same. Just more intense.

Giving herself up to the moment, she reveled in the exquisite joy of Jake's embrace. She returned his kiss. She sighed softly as he cradled her head in one palm, his fingers tangled in her hair. She could feel the hard, uneven thudding of his heart
as he pressed her closer. She offered no resistance. Couldn't have even if she'd wanted to.

Jake wasn't usually a man who lost control. He'd learned a great deal about discipline over the past dozen years, but it was a virtue that deserted him at the moment. Even as he told himself not to push, it was almost as if he was trying to make up for twelve long, parched years in one kiss. He had been so afraid she would reject his overture, that her fear would make her back off. But the fact that she had allowed him to claim her lips gave him hope for the future.

When at last he raised his head, he pressed hers close against his chest, holding her tightly. He might not be seventeen anymore, but he felt as if he was.

For several minutes neither spoke. Jake could feel Maggie trembling in his arms, and he didn't feel too steady himself. Not only had their attraction endured through the years, it had intensified. The question now was, what were they going to do about it?

When he finally felt able to carry on a coherent conversation, he eased away from her, though he kept his arms looped around her waist. With great effort, he summoned up the semblance of a smile.

“Wow.”

“I…I think that's my line.”

“I'm stealing it.”

“Jake, I—I don't know if this is wise. I don't think I'm ready to…to…”

“Trust me again?” He finished her thought, when her voice trailed off.

Eyes conflicted, she gave him a silent nod.

“It's okay, Maggie. I'm not asking you to—not yet, not after all these years. We need to give this some time. But the magic is still there. We both know that. I'd like to see where it leads.”

She played with a button on his jacket, her expression troubled. “Jake, I have a good life now. I've been…content. I thought that love had…that it wasn't in the cards for me. But I think I could…that we might…” She paused to swipe at a tear that spilled out of her eye. “See what you do to me? I'm a wreck. And it will be worse if I let myself…if I let myself care and then…”

She paused, and Jake stepped in to finish the sentence again, much as he hated to. “And then I disappear.”

“Yes.”

“I'm not going to leave again, Maggie. I'm here to stay this time. Just give me a chance to prove that. That's all I ask. Spend some time with me. Just the two of us.”

He read the capitulation in her eyes even before she spoke.

“All right, Jake. But now we really do need to get back. The twins will be wondering what happened to us.”

He grinned. “I think their imaginations will fill in the blanks. They're probably celebrating the success of their strategy right now.”

Maggie took the hand he extended, and as he laced his fingers with hers, she suspected he was right. She knew that the notion of a rekindled romance between their aunt and Jake made the twins feel hopeful and excited. She ought to chastise them for their unrealistic expectations.

But how could she, when her heart suddenly felt the same way?

J
ake tossed his jacket onto the couch, set his briefcase on the floor and reached up to massage his neck. It had been a day full of meetings as the faculty prepared for the new school year, and he was tired. Classes started in a week and Jake was inundated with lesson plans and paperwork. The latter was no problem, of course. His mouth quirked into a wry smile. His years in the navy had prepared him for that.

The lesson plans were another story. Teaching a course here and there during his career in the service was one thing. Planning a full load of classes for an entire semester was another. But not much could dampen his spirits after yesterday's dinner with Maggie. His heart felt lighter than it had in years.

A sudden thud from the direction of the garage
drew his attention. What in the world was his father up to? Loosening his tie, he headed out to investigate.

When Jake reached the door to the garage, he paused only long enough to note that Howard was struggling to lift one of the boxes containing his woodworking tools. Then he strode across the floor and reached for it before the older man could protest.

“This is too heavy for you, Dad.”

“I could have managed it.”

Jake didn't argue the point. They both knew he wasn't supposed to do heavy lifting or strenuous work of any kind. Making an issue out of it would only lead to an argument or cause his father to retreat into miffed silence. So instead, Jake nodded toward the once neatly stacked boxes, which were now in disarray. “What are you doing anyway?”

Howard stuck his hands in his pockets. “Maggie called. They need some craft items for a booth at the church fair, and she asked me if I'd make a few things. I couldn't say no, not after she's been so nice and all since I got here. But I need to set up my equipment.”

Jake deposited the box on the floor and surveyed the garage. There was a workbench in one corner, and he nodded toward it. “Will that spot work?”

“That'll do. I just need to set up the saw and lathe.”

“I'll take care of it for you after dinner.”

“I can do it myself.”

Jake planted his hands on his hips and turned to face his father. They were going to have to address the issue anyway, it seemed. “Dad, this equipment is too heavy for you to lift. You know that. Why didn't you just wait until I got home?”

Howard shrugged. “Didn't want to be a bother.”

Jake's tone—and stance—softened at the unexpected response, and he reached over and laid a hand on his father's stiff shoulder. “You're not a bother, Dad.”

The older man glanced down, his shoulders hunched. “I just feel in the way these days. Maybe I can at least do something productive for the church.”

Jake frowned. Did his father really feel that useless? Maggie had intimated as much, but Jake had been so busy getting ready for school—and worrying about his relationship with her—that he hadn't given a lot of thought to how his father was feeling. Maybe he needed to.

“Well, we'll set it up tonight. Tomorrow we can run into Bangor and buy whatever wood and supplies you need. And a couple of space heaters,
so you can work out here when the weather gets cooler.”

“I don't want to put you out.”

Jake's gaze was steady and direct. “I'm glad to do it, Dad.”

As Jake prepared for bed later that night, he thought about his conversation with his father and how they'd worked side by side earlier in the evening to set up the workshop, Jake doing the physical work, Howard providing the direction. It reminded him of younger, happier times with his father. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally taking the first tentative steps toward a true reconciliation.

 

“Please, Aunt Maggie?”

Maggie regarded the twins. They'd ganged up on her again, and she couldn't seem to come up with a reason to say no. Ever since her birthday the week before, they'd been grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat, dropping hints about her and Jake, urging her to call him, to accept his invitations for dinner, to sit on the porch with him when he dropped by on occasion in the evening. But she needed some space to regroup after their last tumultuous encounter. Those few minutes in the fishing shed had caused her too many sleepless nights.

“Won't you do it for
us,
Aunt Maggie?” Allison cajoled.

Maggie sighed, realizing she'd lost this battle. If the twins wanted her to invite Jake to accompany them to the airport in Bangor when they departed for college in two days, how could she disappoint them?

“All right. You guys win. I'll ask. But remember, he's getting ready for school, too. So don't be surprised if he can't make it.”

“He'll make it,” Abby predicted with a knowing smile.

And she was right. In fact, he not only agreed to go, he offered to drive.

When the big day arrived, Jake showed up right on time, dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a cotton fisherman's sweater that emphasized his broad chest and enhanced his rugged good looks. His smile of welcome for her was warm and lingering, and the smoky look in his eyes wasn't missed by the perceptive twins. She saw them exchange a secret smile and shook her head. Hopeless romantics, the two of them.

The twins chattered all the way to Bangor, plying Jake with questions about his overseas travels, and Maggie was content to sit back and listen to the banter. Between her sleepless nights and the rush to take care of all the last-minute details that going off to college entailed—not to mention running the inn—she was exhausted. Up till now the
girls' enthusiasm had been contagious and had kept her adrenaline flowing. It was a happy, exciting time for them—the start of a new life—and she was pleased that their excellent academic performance had earned them both scholarships to the universities of their choice. Those scholarships, combined with their parents' insurance money—most of which had been put into a trust fund—would offer them security for many years to come. Their futures looked bright, and they had much to be happy and thankful for.

But late at night these past couple of weeks, when all the tumult ceased and she lay alone in bed, Maggie was overcome with a vague sense of melancholy. For the twins, college was a beginning. For her, it was an ending. Their departure marked the end of the life she had known for most of her adult years. Their laughter and teasing had filled her days, and the girls had provided her with an outlet for the bountiful love that filled her heart. Now they would build their own lives, apart from her, and eventually, special men would come along to claim their hearts. That was what she hoped for them, anyway. She wanted their lives to be full and rich, filled with love and a satisfying career and children. It was just that she would miss them terribly. They had been her purpose, her anchor, and she felt suddenly adrift and empty.

It wasn't until Abby was getting ready to board the plane that the girls themselves got teary-eyed. They'd never been apart for any great length of time, and now they were heading in two different directions, away from each other and the only home they could remember. Abby clung first to Allison, then to Maggie, as Jake stepped discreetly into the background.

“I'll miss you both so much!” Abby's voice was shaky and uncertain.

“Call me every day, okay?” Allison implored.

“I promise.”

“Goodbye, Aunt Maggie. And thank you…for every thing.”

Maggie's own eyes grew misty, but she struggled to maintain her composure as she hugged Abby again. She wanted this to be a happy moment for them, not a sad one. “Believe it or not, I loved every minute of it. Even the old days, when you and Allison used to delight in confusing me about who was who.”

“I guess we were pretty bad about that.” Abby gave her a sheepish grin.

“Well, I survived. I even managed to guide two girls through adolescence at once without losing my sanity. Don't I get a medal or something?”

“Would a kiss and a hug do instead?” Abby asked and held out her arms.

Maggie smiled. “I think that would be an even better reward.”

Abby embraced her, and Maggie blinked back her tears.

“Now get on that plane before it leaves without you. I can't run after the plane like I used to run after the school bus!”

Abby grinned. “Yeah, I remember. Ali, you'll call, right?” Her voice was anxious as she hugged her twin.

“Count on it.”

“You too, Aunt Maggie?”

“Absolutely. Now scoot. The bus is leaving.” Maggie tried without much success to keep her shaky smile in place.

“Okay.” She hefted her knapsack and headed into the security line.

Maggie and Allison waved until she was out of sight, and then, half an hour later, it was Allison's turn.

As Maggie watched Allison disappear into the concourse, Jake laced his fingers through hers. She blinked, struggling to smile but the understanding look in his eyes made it even more difficult to keep her tears at bay.

“You did a good job with them, you know.” He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. “They're lovely, intelligent, confident young women
with their heads on straight and hearts that reflect an upbringing filled with kindness and love.”

How was it that he'd known exactly the right thing to say? In the moments before he'd walked over from the sidelines, where he'd retreated to give her and Allison a private moment to say goodbye, she'd been asking herself those very kinds of questions. Had she done everything she could to prepare them for what was ahead? Would the values she'd instilled in them survive their college years? Had their single-parent upbringing provided enough love and support and stability? Had she given them an adequate sense of self-worth, a solid enough grounding, to sustain them through whatever lay ahead? Jake seemed to think so. She didn't know if he was right. But hearing him say it made her feel better, and for that she was grateful.

“Thank you. I tried my best. I suppose that's all any of us can do. And I hope you're right. I hope it was good enough.”

He draped his arm around her shoulders. “I don't think you have to worry about those two. You raised them to be survivors. But then, they had a good example to follow.”

All at once she was grateful the girls had insisted Jake come along today. His presence somehow helped ease the loneliness of their departure.

“Thank you for coming today, Jake. It was a lot
tougher than I expected, saying goodbye. I—I'm going to miss those two! It will be so strange to be alone after all these years.”

Jake turned to face her, letting one hand rest on her waist as he stroked her cheek. “You're not alone, Maggie.”

She searched his eyes, discerning nothing but honesty in their depths. His intense gaze seemed to touch her very soul, willing her to believe the sincerity of his words. And she wanted to. Boy oh boy, she wanted to, with every fiber of her being! But she had to be cautious. She had to be sure. She still had too many doubts, too many questions. She would move forward, yes. But slowly. Because only time would provide the answers—and the assurance—she needed.

 

“By the way, the date's set.”

“What date?” Maggie snagged another forkful of chicken salad, distracted by the balmy mid-September weather. When Philip had called and asked her to meet him for lunch at the outdoor café overlooking the bay, she couldn't refuse. Even now, her attention was focused more on enjoying the warmth of the sun seeping into her skin than on their conversation.

“The date for your show.”

That refocused her. Fast. “What show?”

“The show we've been talking about for a year—remember?”

“You mean the show I never agreed to?”

“That's the one.” He lifted his iced tea in salute.

Maggie set her fork down with a clatter. “Philip, you didn't! You know I'm not ready!”

“You're ready, Maggie. You have been for a couple of years.”

“But…but I never agreed to a show!”

“True. And why is that?”

Maggie bit her lip. “This is too close to my heart, Philip. You know that. I just can't take the chance. What if…what if I fail?”

Philip leaned forward and took her hand. “Maggie, there's no growth without risk. You've lived a very predictable, quiet life here for as long as I've known you. You think things through and try as hard as you can to make everything perfect. And that's worked well for you with the inn. You have a successful business and a comfortable life. But some things can't be worked out on a spreadsheet. Sometimes you have to just trust your heart. I know it's risky. I know how much your art means to you. It comes right from your heart, exposes your soul. That's why it's so good—and also why rejection is so scary. But I'm telling you, as your friend and a professional art dealer, that the risk
of a show is minimal. I've shown some of your work to my friend in Bangor, and he agrees with my assessment. It will be a great opportunity for you to launch a more serious career. I'll cancel the show if you really want me to, but I think it would be a big mistake.”

She frowned. “When is this show supposed to be?”

“The opening is scheduled for the first Friday in December. It will run for a month.”

Maggie took a deep breath. It was a scary commitment, but Philip was right. If she ever wanted to pursue serious art, she had to make her work available for critique and review. She needed to take this opportunity.

“All right. I'll do it. I guess it's time to test the waters, take a chance.”

He smiled. “You won't be sorry, you know.”

“I hope you're right.”

“And what about the other…risky…situation in your life at the moment?”

“What situation?”

“Jake.”

Maggie glanced down and played with her chicken salad. “I'm not so sure about that one. It's even scarier.”