The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense) (8 page)

Carcen had heard from Mom that Devynne would be here this morning. He tried to keep up his end of an intelligent conversation but couldn’t deny, even to himself, that he’d been watching for her since his arrival.

He was three-quarters of the way through his meal when he heard his friend Randy clear his throat from his place across the table. “Carcen, I need some advice.”

Carcen met his gaze. “About what?”

Randy squirmed on his seat and twisted his water glass. “My family thinks it’s time for me to move past losing Sarah and start dating again.”

Slowly chewing a bite of pancake, Carcen studied the man who’d been there with him through the worst days after his brother’s death. The man who understood much of what he was going through because he’d just lost his wife a year before that. “They’ve been telling you that for awhile now. But you’ve never broached the subject on your own before….”

Randy fiddled with his fork. “I think I might be warming up to the idea of having a woman in my life again.”

Speaking of which…
As Carcen once more scanned the room in hopes of seeing Devynne, he mumbled distractedly, “That’s great Randy.”

Randy’s response faded into a hazy background noise.

He visually checked each table again to make sure he hadn’t missed her the first several times he’d searched the room. But he still didn’t see her. Had she backed out at the last minute?

Leaning across the table, Randy snapped his fingers in front of Carcen’s face.

Carcen tore his gaze from the room and looked at the accountant. “What?”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you?”

“Sure I have.”

Randy arched a skeptical brow. “What was the last thing I said?”

Nothing came to mind. Carcen grinned at his own expense. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“Who is she?” Randy glanced around the room.

“Who?”

“The woman that has your mind in a dither.”

Carcen jabbed the air in his friend’s direction with his fork, “My mind is not in a dither, I just—” his words cut off as he saw Devynne enter the room carrying a steaming bowl of eggs— “need some eggs.” He gave his friend a lame grin as he started to push back his chair.

Randy let out a low whistle. “I think I just might need some eggs too.”

At his awed tone, Carcen turned to look at him but Randy’s eyes were focused on the lovely woman setting the bowl of scrambled eggs on the buffet across the room.

Leaning across the table, Carcen playfully shut Randy’s slack jaw.

The accountant snapped back to attention, his face flustered. “Now
she
is beautiful!”

Carcen angled him a look and raised a brow.

Randy lifted his hands, palms forward. “Hey man! Sorry if you have your eye on her, but all’s fair in love and war right? You want to tell me about her?”

Carcen sat back down. The egg deliverer had disappeared into the kitchen, along with his craving for eggs. “She’s my… sister.”

“Your sister! I thought Katy was your only sister.”

“Well, my sister-in-law really. She was married to Kent. But I think of her as a sister.”
Most of the time
.

Except for the other night when he’d accidentally let it slip that he thought she was beautiful…. What had come over him? Maybe he
should
encourage Randy to ask Devynne out. But somehow the thought… was unbearable.

“Well,” Randy’s eyes turned to where Devynne had disappeared through the swinging doors, “that puts things into a whole new perspective. That’s good, really. I was afraid I might have to fight you for her.” He raised his fists, dodging his head this way and that, grinning at Carcen.

Across the table, Carcen responded in kind.

Randy chuckled, a slight smile playing on his, deeply tanned face. “I think I just found all the motivation I need to start me on the dating path again. Do you think you could wangle me an introduction?” He waggled his dark brows. “I’d take it from there.”

Carcen sipped his tepid coffee. “Why don’t you give it a couple weeks. She’s just…found a little freedom. That’s why I was a little worried about her this morning.”

“Freedom?” Randy slid his fingers under his collar and adjusted his tie. “From what?”

Carcen waved away the question, not willing to break her confidence. “It’s a long story.”

Randy shrugged. “Sure. Not a problem.”

“She’s got a little girl.”

Randy’s lower lip protruded and he gave a shrug. “I love kids, man! You know that.”

“Yeah.” Carcen smiled.

He should be thrilled. Randy had been one of his best friends since he moved to the island a little over four years ago. And he, of all people, would know what Devynne had been through. Carcen knew that Randy would treat Devynne with nothing but the utmost respect, but… he gritted his teeth and shook off the thought.

Finishing the dregs of his coffee, he picked up his car keys. “I have to head in to work. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Bright and early. Hey, I heard you made a pretty significant arrest on Thursday?”

Carcen nodded. “Never been happier to collar a perp.”

That’s good. Really good. Listen, I have a new company coming into my office Monday to see if they want to hire me. You might pray about that if you think about it.”

“You got it, buddy.”

As Carcen made his way out to his squad car he pushed the troubling question over his strange feelings about Randy and Devynne aside. This day was bound to have enough troubles of its own without adding the worries of tomorrow. He had read those words in his Bible just this morning and determined to put his Lord’s advice into practice.

Chapter 9

As soon as she arrived home from helping with the breakfast, Devynne laid the quilt across the back of her couch and eyed it critically. The red, white and blue Irish Chain looked fabulous, she decided. When Mrs. Abernathy requested those colors in that pattern she had wondered if she would like the outcome, but now she wished she’d made two, one for Mrs. Abernathy and one for herself.

Scooping the quilt into her arms, she checked her watch. If she wanted to make it in time for her Friday afternoon appointment with the elderly lady she needed to get on the road.

“Rissa! Come on, Honey. We need to get you to Grandma’s so I can go to my appointment.”

“Coming, Mama.”

Rissa appeared a moment later with her Barbie backpack stuffed full and overflowing with clothes and toys.

Devynne checked a smile. “Honey, you’re only going to Grandma’s for a couple hours while I go to lunch. You won’t need all that.” She gestured to the bag.

“Can’t I stay with Gwandma and Gwandpa tonight? Pleeease?”

“No, Rissa. You weren’t invited for tonight. I will talk to Grandma and maybe you can stay one night next weekend, alright? Right now we need to get going. Take that back up to your room please.”

With a sigh of disappointment and sagging shoulders the little girl turned to do as she was told. Devynne bent quickly to gather her purse, knowing her smile would do more damage than good.
Thank you, Lord for the little things that make my day
.

An hour later as she pulled into Mrs. Abernathy’s drive, Devynne focused her prayers in another direction.
Please, Lord, help me to hold my tongue. Don’t let me snap back at her or do anything that might ruin my testimony
. She sighed and eyed the huge log cabin with decided dread. Mrs. Abernathy easily took the blue ribbon for the testiest person she’d ever met. Nothing was ever quite right in the elderly woman’s estimation, least of all Devynne’s quilts. She would undoubtedly have something negative to say about the beautiful piece, and then the hemming and hawing about paying the full, agreed-upon price would begin. The last two quilts Devynne delivered hadn’t been ‘exactly what she had in mind’ and in the end Devynne had knocked fifty dollars off the price of each just so she could go home.

She determined not to do that this time. She had splurged at the beginning and purchased a red material that was a little more expensive than what she normally bought. She needed the full price on this quilt or she wouldn’t be able to pay her phone bill this month.

She sighed once again, and with a prayer that the Lord would help Mrs. Abernathy to be in an exceptionally good mood today, started for the house.

The heavy wooden door, intricately carved with a scene of elk placidly grazing in a forest-encircled meadow, opened before Devynne reached the top step of the covered deck. Devynne looked up to see Mrs. Abernathy floating towards her. Yes, floating was the only way to describe the way the elderly lady walked. Her posture, always perfectly straight, somehow made Devynne feel inches shorter than her five feet two. Devynne had never seen her wear anything but long flowing dresses that flared slightly at the bottom, hiding her feet, and thus making it look like she floated everywhere she went. Her perpetual cigarette, long, slim, brown and sickly smelling stood like a sentinel over her elegantly tapered, bejeweled hand. And her ever-present White Shoulders perfume wafted out in a cloud before her. Hair perfectly coifed, makeup immaculate, haughty expression firmly in place, Mrs. Abernathy looked down her nose at Devynne and took a long pull on her cigarette.

“Didn’t we agree you would have that quilt to me by the end of last week, Devynne?” she asked, smoke spewing from her mouth.

Devynne smiled. She had half-way expected something of the sort. “No, Mrs. Abernathy. I have a copy of the contract here in my briefcase. I’ll pull it out for you as soon as we get inside.” She hurried on before the woman could speak. “The quilt turned out lovely. I think you’re really going to like it.” She stepped past the woman and entered the house uninvited. “Here, I’ll lay it across the couch for you.”

She proceeded to do so, ignoring the lady’s mumbling about people’s manners these days. “There,” Devynne said, smoothing out the last wrinkle, “you check it over and I’ll pull out that contract.”

The look on Mrs. Abernathy’s face said it all. She loved the quilt, but somehow Devynne didn’t think she would be forthcoming about it. Devynne bent and dug through her briefcase, hiding a smile as she did so.

“Hmmm,” the lady mumbled to herself, but just loud enough so Devynne would be sure to hear, “the stitching on this one doesn’t seem to be as fine as on the others.”

“I—” Devynne cut off, determined to hold her tongue.

“And the colors, well…they aren’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Mrs. Abernathy had examined the material and approved the colors herself before Devynne ever began work on the quilt. Devynne flipped a page in the contract, studying it as though it were of great interest to her. In reality, the words blurred into a gray haze. She silently counted to ten and then on to twenty-five before she allowed herself to open her mouth for a quick breath.

“This work really is inferior to the other two, I purchased from you,” Mrs. Abernathy said, turning towards her and blowing a cloud of smoke. “I would get much better quality if I went to the Amish folk back east.”

That
, Devynne didn’t doubt. But Mrs. Abernathy wasn’t paying the premium price she would pay for an Amish quilt either.

Devynne bit her lip. She really needed the money from this sale, but three times of listening to complaints about her ‘shoddy’ work was quite enough. Maybe she didn’t have all the skill of an Amish woman but she knew Mrs. Abernathy wouldn’t find a better made quilt for miles around. For each of the last three years Carcen had taken one of her quilts to the county fair and each time she had won the blue ribbon for quality.

Something inside her tightened up like material in a quilting ring. “Well,” Devynne shrugged, “I liked it so well that I wished I had made two. So if you don’t want it, I’ll just keep it.”

She shoved the contract back into her briefcase and bent, gathering the quilt into her arms. “I’m sorry you didn’t like it. Maybe you should find someone else to make another one for you. There is a quilt shop over in Anacortes. They might know someone to recommend.” She stretched out her hand to the very surprised Mrs. Abernathy who took it only out of pure reflex. “Thank you for your past business, and I wish you good luck in the future.” With that Devynne turned on her heel, hoping that she had judged the woman correctly.

She almost reached the door before Mrs. Abernathy recovered. “Now don’t be so hasty, girl. I didn’t say I didn’t
want
the quilt. Only that the quality was a little inferior.” She snorted most inelegantly. “My, a little testy today aren’t we? Hold on while I get your money. I suppose that quilt will have to do for the guest cabin.” She stormed out of the room, mumbling under her breath.

Devynne grinned and did a little jig, pumping her fist. She twirled around only to see a young man halfway down the great room stairs, staring at her mouth agape.

Her face heated. “Oh, hello.”

This must be Mrs. Abernathy’s son. He was usually away at college, but she recalled now that Mrs. Abernathy had said he was coming home for a visit.

“I know you!” he blurted.

Devynne glanced behind her to be sure he wasn’t looking at someone else and then a cold chill clenched a fist around her.

“I thought you were dead!?”

“Excuse me?” The words emerged tattered and thready. But even as she expressed the question, Devynne knew he’d recognized her.

He rushed down the last few steps and stopped a few paces away. “
Genesis Expedition? Surf Justice?
I was so disappointed when they reported you died after the last shoot of
Justice
.” He took her in from head to toe, then slapped his thigh. “I
knew
it couldn’t be true. You’re one of the best actresses ever! You’re Shania Hane, right?”

Mrs. Abernathy scuttled back into the room, a check flapping in her hands. “Oh Stephan don’t be ridiculous. This is Devynne Lang from The Healing Quilt. Not that silly actress you fawned over for years.” She turned back to Devynne with a roll of her eyes. “He had pictures of that poor young woman plastered all over his room. Even moved to California for a few years in hopes of meeting her, can you believe that?” She snorted and gave her son a derisive look. “Like her security detail would have ever let you get near her.”