Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) (25 page)

“But for how long?”

“Long enough.” She held Kay’s gaze for a long moment. “Just let me know where I can find you.”

Kay chewed at her lip. This was all too much. She’d spent so many years being angry, fighting to get away from her mother when she would have given anything to have her in her life. Here she was asking for nothing more than a bit of peace between them. Dottie was right. If she didn’t try to mend their relationship before it was too late, she’d regret it forever.

Kay laid a hand over her mother’s chilled fingers. “You’ll know where I am, I promise.”

“Good.” Claire pulled some papers from her purse. “Then I have just one more loose end. I need a dollar.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You owe me a dollar.”

“Why did you lose a bet with Dottie that you couldn’t get me to stay?”

“No. The terms of the contract state I’ve sold you the cottage for the sum total of one dollar.”

Kay jerked as if she’d been slapped. “You’re selling the cottage…to me?”

“Yes. I want you to have it.” She pulled out a pen. “This place was always going to be yours. You’ve loved it all these years. Sign here and here and hand over that dollar.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Say thank you.” Claire held out the pen. “We’re never going to have the Hallmark mother-daughter relationship. I think too much water has passed under the bridge, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean I’m not proud of the talented woman you’ve become. The cottage isn’t a bribe. It’s the one thing that is truly mine to give you. I want to know you’ll always have a roof over your head. Stay. Go. Keep it. Sell it. It’s your decision now.” She watched Kay sign and gathered the pages and put them back in her purse. Standing, she slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

“I have just one more question.” Claire jerked her chin toward the cove. “What about him?”

Kay stood and tugged at the hem of her T-shirt. There was no need in asking who the him was. “It’s over.”

“Dottie tells me you love this man, and the way he defended you this morning, I’d say he loves you, too.”

Kay gave a quick shake to her head. “You’d be wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” Claire did something then she hadn’t done in close to fifteen years. She hugged her daughter.

After Claire left with a promise to call after she’d talked to her doctors, Kay followed the sound of the surf to stand on the back edge of the beach. She needed time to think. With the storm in the gulf, and the tide on the way in, the waves were impressive. Crashing, foaming, churning as one pushed and another pulled.

Kay was experiencing the same thing. The push and the pull. The realization she’d found her mother again, only to be facing the prospect of losing her for good.

And now the cottage was hers, the same moment everything falls apart? She couldn’t possibly stay. Not now. Not and be reminded of Bear everywhere she turned. It wasn’t even the point house being there.

This place was where they met. Where they first kissed. First made love. Everything was too fresh and raw to even dream of staying here. Maybe in time she could come back. After some distance, she may gain the perspective she’d need to return. They say time heals.

Fat drops of rain polka dotted the stones at her feet. She needed to find Hope before it was too late. The storm was here. In more ways than one. It was her cue to leave.

Kay turned, then stopped. Over the roar of the waves, she swore she heard barking. In the growing dark, she must have imagined it. But then, she heard it again.

Shadow?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him. Racing, frantic. He still wore his leash. She looked back up the breakwater. Was Walter with him?

The dog headed straight for the point house through the spray of waves hitting the rocks. Was he alone? It wasn’t safe for him to be running around out there. Kay could hear him barking over the wind and surf.

Sea water wet the bottoms of her jeans and filled her shoes as she dashed to catch him. She kept looking over her shoulder. Any minute Walter was sure to appear. The icy rain fell harder now.

“Shadow! Come here, boy!” If he heard, he wasn’t acknowledging. He continued to bark and circle outside Bear’s house.

By the time Kay reached him and got a firm hold on his leash, the rain was blowing at them sideways. It was growing darker by the minute. The breakwater rushed along the tops of the stones. It would be stupid to try and head back that way. In the dark, she’d end up breaking her neck or getting swept out to sea. Or both.

Shadow continued to tug and bark. The dog was going to strangle himself. “Easy, boy. Settle down. Let me think.”

They had to get out of the rain and the wind. Kay tried the door to Bear’s house, in vain. Of course it was locked. Wait, there was a spare key. In a rock that doesn’t look like a rock.

“God, help me.” She pushed the hair out of her eyes and turned her back to the force of the wind. “Shadow, where the hell is the damn rock?”

Chapter Thirty

The van handled like a kite in these winds. Thank goodness Bear was the only fool stupid enough to be on the roads in this weather. He’d lost track of the number of times he been blown into another lane.

Bell Harbor looked like a ghost town by the time he rolled into the parking area of the inn. Wind-driven rain obscured the end of the docks. Shop signs swung. The town had lost power. Traffic lights did little but sway violently on their wires. The emergency generator at the inn had automatically switched on, lighting the stairways and exits.

Hoping against rational thought, Bear called out as he entered the inn. “Kay? Are you here? Anyone? Kay?” He flipped on the lighting in the lobby to grab his own car keys. His worst fear greeted him.

Roses…three dozen goddamn roses littered the floor. “Son of a bitch…” He closed his eyes to the shaft of guilt and anger rushing through him. “Oh, Kay, I’m so sorry,” he shouted at the ceiling. He ran a hand over his face.

Bear noticed something more. The taping was gone. All Kay’s supplies cleared away. The mural had its final antiquing. His gaze flew to the wall behind the desk. There was his likeness along with Shadow, just as she’d described her idea of including them. She’d finished it. The effect was amazing.

His boots crushed roses into the tiled floor as he made a slow circle to take in the richness of the simple finishing technique. A disturbing thought pierced through his brain. If she was done with the mural, there’d be no reason for her to stay. Not after Diane’s lies and these damn flowers. He kicked at the stems.

Something else caught Bear’s eye. “No…” The word rushed from him as if he’d been punched. He moved closer to the wall, praying he was wrong. He wasn’t. The lovers…he and Kay…in the rocks. They’d been painted over. Seamlessly, as if they had never been there.

Pushing back out into the tempest of the storm, Bear rushed to his car. He plugged his cell phone onto the charger, and it sprang to life with a flurry of message notifications. If any of them were from Diane, he would throw it into the street. No, there were four messages, all from Walter.

“Bear, call me as soon as you get this. Doesn’t matter what time it is. We got us a situation here.”

The rest of the messages were about the same if not increasingly more panicky.
“Bear, where the hell are you?”

Bear was out of his car and running toward Polka Dots. A single light burned in the apartment upstairs. Walter’s generator growled in the back. If Kay was hurt, he’d never forgive himself. He pounded on the back door until Walter answered the door.

“Dammit, son, I’ve been trying to reach you for plum near five hours. What the hell are you doing back here in the middle of a hurricane? You’re supposed to be in LA?”

“I have to find Kay. Is she all right? Have you seen her?”

“She cleared out hours ago. Probably over in New Hampshire by now. She was some upset when I saw her earlier. Claire said she was all packed and fixin’ to leave before the storm hit.”

Bear grabbed Walter’s arm. “So she’s okay?”

“’Spect so. Storm ain’t so bad west o’ here. It’s Shadow. Blasted dog. He’s why I’ve been callin’ ya half the night.”

“What about him? Is he sick?”

“Took off. Leash an’ all. Near tore the arm off me.”

“You lost my dog in a hurricane?”

Walter tossed up his hand. “He just bolted. Like somebody shoved a rocket up his arse. He’d been acting squirrelly since you left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Squirrelly.” Walter stretched out the word as if saying it slower would somehow clarify its meaning. “Think he might have been sensing the storm coming. Took off before it hit. I’ve been looking for him all over town ever since.”

Bear planted his hands on his hip and studied the tops of his shoes. “Shit.”

“Well, like I said, he skedaddled just before dark. The rain hadn’t even started yet, so if he’s tucked in somewhere out of the storm. He may just hole up there until this mess passes.”

“He’s not at the inn. I just came from there.”

“He sure as hell ain’t. I’ve been back there looking a dozen times.” Walter ran a hand over his head. “I sure am sorry, Bear.”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“Was the damnedest thing. I said, ‘Come on, ya mangy mutt, let’s head home,’ and the next second he was gone.”

Bear knew at once where he went. But, if he was on the point in this storm…There was no time to explain. “I have to go.” Bear thumped Walter’s shoulder.

He pulled a long yellow rain slicker off a hook by the back door and tossed it at Bear. “If you’re gonna try to run through a hurricane, you’ll need this. Radio’s saying the storm taking a turn to the north, but we’re still in for some beatin’. Watch yourself.”

“Thanks, Walter.”

Bear drove at breakneck speed dodging fallen branches and debris in the road. He had to get to the cove. Without the streetlights, the back roads were treacherous. His headlight beams barely reached into the murk.

Adrenaline pumped through him. If Kay was safe, even if she was God knows where in New Hampshire, he’d find her. He wouldn’t rest until then. But Shadow was in real trouble here.

Walter had said the magic word. Home. Shadow only knew one home. It was a game. When Bear said “home,” the dog ran there like he was shot out of a cannon.

The question was, did he make it out there before the storm lowered its fist into the cove? Was he trapped out there wet and cold battling the elements? There weren’t many places to hide and ride it out. If the waves got too high…

He wouldn’t think about that. Bear punched down on the accelerator.

He swerved to miss a shattered limb stretched across the road. Almost there. Just around the next corner.

Speeding past the upper lot right before his turn, his headlights caught a side reflector in the dark. Bear slammed his foot on the breaks and spun into the graveled area. “Kay!”

He grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and leapt out of his car. The batteries were old and gave a weak light, but it was something. Bear pulled the wide, yellow hood of Walter’s rain gear over his head. It may make him look like a frozen fish-stick spokesman, but he was grateful for the little protection it afforded.

Waving the light over Kay’s car confirmed what Walter said. She was packed. For the first time since Chicago, he had something to thank hurricane Daphne for accomplishing. Kay was still here.

He hurried down the slick stone stairs and pounded on the back door. “Kay!” There were no lights visible inside. No candles, or lanterns. Bear held the flashlight under his chin to locate Kay’s key on his key ring.

“Kay?” Bear pushed through the living room and took the stairs two at a time. “Kay? Are you up here?” He checked both bedrooms. They were both empty. The beds were stripped. Everything had been set for her to leave.

Where the hell was she?

Opening the back to the deck door brought a renewed rush of wind and rain into the cottage. Bear ducked his head and scanned the deck. His light was fading. He gave it a sharp knock to brighten the pitiful beam.

As he did, two round disks reflected in the dark. Kay’s cat was huddled tight into the corner of the deck against the wide posts. Now he knew Kay was here somewhere. She wouldn’t have left Hope behind.

In one quick move, Bear scooped up the cat and cradled him to his chest. “Where is she?” The panicked kitten yowled. “That doesn’t help me. Aren’t you supposed to give me some hope? Isn’t that your name?” He opened the deck door again, and the cat scrambled out of his grasp in favor of the safety inside.

Stepping out onto the beach moments later was like landing on a hostile planet. The cottage was protected somewhat, but the cove was taking the full force of Daphne’s beating. Bear leaned into the wind and pushed forward.

The tide should have made its turn. A few hours ago, he’d have been washed away, but the waves were still too high. The driving rain and seawater stung at his eyes. Churning water covered a portion of the breakwater spanning a strip maybe fifteen feet across where the stones followed the curve of the beach before rising to the point.

As each crashing wave began its ebb, Bear could see more of the stones, but how deep was the over spill? Two feet? Four? Without the wave swell?

Beyond he could see the point house. Any sane man would wait for the tide to recede. Wait for daylight. Wait for the f-ing Coast Guard.

His clothing was already frozen to his skin, but when he dashed into the icy waves, the shock to his system had him screaming obscenities into the wind. As if to scream back, the sea raised a watery fist and slammed into him.

Chapter Thirty-One

Shoving his way into the point house, Bear nearly wept when he saw them.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God.
He gripped the edge of his counter to steady the sudden stagger in his legs.

Shadow rushed him, head down, whining. His whole body wagged. Bear bent and pulled the dog against his leg and wrapped an arm around the dog’s neck. Shadow pressed into him.

“Oh my God, Walter! Thank goodness. How—”

Bear stood and pushed back the hood of the rain slicker. “It’s me.”