Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (20 page)

“I know, it's just that…” She hesitated. “Never mind. Come in. I baked your favorite oatmeal cookies.”

After the day he'd had, Troy was grateful for an excuse to relax. Sitting heavily in a kitchen chair, he muttered, “What's the occasion?”

“Think of it as a late Valentine's Day gift.”

This year's Valentine's Day had been a disaster. He'd bought a large box of expensive chocolates for Faith. He'd never expected to pay that much for
candy.
He'd bought a bouquet of red roses, too. They should've been gold plated for what they cost. As it turned out, he might as well have flushed all that cash down the toilet. The day before he'd intended to drop them off, he learned that Faith was leaving town.

So much for romancing her with flowers and candy! The roses were wilting in a vase on the mantel and he'd stuck the chocolates in the fridge. If she wanted to go back to Seattle—or wherever—he wasn't going to stop her. Not that he had the power to do so, anyway. The woman had a mind of her own, and he could see that it was already made up.

“Do you want coffee or tea with your cookies?” Megan asked, standing attentively beside his chair.

“Coffee.” Anything was better than the stale brew at the station. The stuff was often as black as tar and just as thick.

His daughter brought him a plate holding four cookies and a mug of coffee with a touch of half-and-half, which was exactly the way he liked it. “I assume you want something?” Treats like this generally came at a price.

“Daddy!” Megan put her hands on her hips, her expression one of shock. “How can you even suggest such a thing? We hardly ever have time to talk anymore, just you and me.”

“Okay, what shall we talk about?” He crossed his legs and leaned back. He was certain this little rendezvous was leading
somewhere.

Before his daughter could respond, the doorbell rang. A look he could only describe as panicked flashed across Megan's face.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he asked.

She shrugged and glanced away. “Not really.”

Megan hurried to the front door and in that instant everything became clear to Troy. This hadn't been a random invitation. His daughter had decided to do some match-making.

Troy stood, pushing aside the cookies and his coffee, and entered the living room. “Hello, Faith.”

Her face fell when she saw him. She was obviously as surprised as he was—perhaps more so.

“Megan asked me to stop by so she could show me the baby blanket she finished knitting.” Faith's tone implied that she wasn't a party to this arrangement.

Troy didn't need anyone to tell him the entire setup was Megan's doing.

“I'll get the blanket,” Megan said cheerfully, acting oblivious to the tension between Faith and Troy. “Why don't you two talk while I…find my knitting.”

As soon as Megan left the living room, the silence
seemed louder than any words they might have said. Troy wondered which of them would speak first. He'd decided it wasn't going to be him.

Apparently Faith had made the same decision. They both stood there examining the carpet, each pretending to ignore the other.

Okay, fine, he'd take the initiative. “I apologize for this,” he said curtly. “I had no idea Megan was setting us up.”

“I didn't, either,” Faith told him.

It was pleasant not to be snapping at each other. Only months ago, they used to talk for hours on end. They'd laughed together and shared memories and dreams.

Troy exhaled a sigh. “Listen, about the other night—”

“Last week in the grocery store—” Faith started speaking at the same time.

They both stopped and stared at each other.

“Ladies before gentlemen,” Troy said and gestured toward her.

“You spoke first.” She motioned back at him.

Troy hardly knew where to begin. He made a couple of awkward attempts. “When I saw you…” He paused. “I never should've said the things I…”

Faith smiled and her expression softened. “Are you actually apologizing, Troy Davis?”

He chuckled and conceded with a nod. “I am.”

“Do the words always get stuck in your throat?”

“With you they seem to.”

“That's a sad commentary, isn't it?”

He had to agree.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I admit no one has the power to unsettle me as much as you do.”

They continued to stand in their respective areas, Faith near the front door, Troy on the other side of the room.

“Is that good or bad?” he asked.

She took a moment to consider. “A bit of both, I guess.”

With that, it seemed they'd said everything there was to be said. The strained silence returned. When Troy could no longer stand not knowing, he asked, “Are you still planning to move?”

Faith broke eye contact. “I don't know…. I think it might be for the best.”

“Because of me?”

She smiled at that. “Why is it men always assume they're the sole reason for a woman's decisions?”

“I don't know. Why?”

“You ask that as if I'm going to give you a punch line.” She shook her head in amusement. “I guess the answer is that men tend to be self-centered.”

He didn't argue with her. “You're probably right.”

Troy thought he saw Megan poke her head around the corner, but she didn't return with her “found” knitting.

His pride felt like a lump in his throat. Somehow he managed to speak around it. “Don't leave, Faith.” If she moved away, he knew he'd regret that he hadn't asked her to stay. He'd regret that he hadn't tried to stop her.

To his utter astonishment, her eyes filled with tears. He had no idea what he could've said to cause such a reaction. Every time he opened his mouth he upset her. That was the last thing he wanted. Feeling completely helpless, he covered the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her.

At first she resisted and then, gradually, he felt her resolve weaken as she leaned against him. Troy held her enclosed in his embrace.

Megan cleared her throat as she entered the room.

They broke apart like guilty teenagers.

“Here's the blanket,” his daughter announced in an unnecessarily loud voice.

“Oh, let me see,” Faith said with more enthusiasm than warranted. Almost eagerly she walked away from Troy and toward Megan.

Troy could see that Faith's skin was flushed with embarrassment. While she examined Megan's knitting, Troy's mind whirled with hope and excitement, and his spirits felt lighter than they'd been in weeks.

In his heart of hearts, he was convinced Faith loved him as much as he loved her. This being apart was ridiculous. He knew what he wanted, and that was to have Faith in his life. They were meant to be together. He felt sure that, given time, she'd admit it, too.

“Oh, Megan, you've done a splendid job.”

His daughter fairly beamed at Faith's praise. “Did you notice the mistake I made here?” she asked, pointing to what must've been a small flaw in the blanket.

“No, and no one else will, either.”

“I do, but I have to look for it. Remember what you told me when I first started knitting?”

Faith frowned and gave a slight shrug.

“You said,” Megan reminded her, “that if it bothered me I should rip it out and repair the mistake, but if it was something small and barely noticeable I should simply forget it.”

“Remember there are three stitches in knitting. Knit, purl—”

“—and rip,” Megan completed for her. “That isn't technically a stitch, but it's certainly part of
my
knitting process.”

“It's part of everyone's process,” Faith said, and they both laughed.

Faith made a couple of other complimentary remarks about the blanket while Troy waited patiently.

“I should be going,” he said pointedly when Megan brought out the new yarn she'd purchased. It was obvious that she and Faith had become good friends and shared an easy camaraderie.

Faith turned and her gaze immediately found his. “I should go, too. Oh, look at the time,” she said. “Craig will be home soon, won't he? You two will want to have dinner.”

“Okay,” Megan said. Troy supposed she figured her work was done.

Troy held the door for Faith and was about to follow her when Megan placed her hand on his arm, stopping him. “You're not upset with me, are you?”

Troy looked over at Faith and saw that she stood next to her car, waiting for him.

“Not in the least.”

“Someone had to do something, and I could see you were too stubborn.”

“Me? Stubborn?” Troy protested. “What about Faith?
She's
the stubborn one.”

“Maybe so, but I doubt it.” Megan rose up on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. “Don't let her get away, Dad.”

“I won't,” he promised.

“Good.” She gave him a gentle shove. “Now what are you doing standing here? Go talk to Faith.”

“That's exactly what I plan to do.” He bounded down the steps and met Faith in the driveway.

The words he'd planned to say were trapped in his throat.

“Would you like to stop by the house for a little while?” Faith asked when he reached her.

By some miracle he managed to nod.

“Shall we say in fifteen minutes?”

“Ten?” he suggested instead.

Faith laughed. “Five?”

“Why don't I just follow you home?”

She nodded.

Troy started toward his own car. “I'll see you there.”

“Troy?” Faith stopped him, sounding uncertain.

“Yes?” He turned to face her again.

She paused. “I want to settle these…these differences between us.”

“I do, too.”

“It's just that… Oh, I don't know…”

“Faith,” he said softly, walking back to stand in front of her. “Let's not make any decisions yet. Let's talk honestly and openly, and if we both decide a relationship is wrong, we'll lay it to rest once and for all. Does that seem fair to you?”

She looked up at him, her eyes vulnerable, exposing what was in her heart. “It does,” she whispered.

He touched her cheek, then hurried to his car.

On the short drive, Troy felt almost drunk. Drunk on love and hope…. For no real reason he burst into laughter.

They were finally going to resolve this situation between them.

It wasn't until Troy made the turn onto Rosewood Lane that he saw the twirling lights of two patrol cars. Both were parked outside Faith's house.

Troy was out of his vehicle before Faith had even pulled into her driveway.

“What's going on here?” he asked Deputy Weaver, who met him halfway up the walk.

“The alarm company phoned in a breach.”

Faith hurried toward him, eyes wide and frightened. “Troy, what's happened?”

“It appears someone broke into the house.” In an effort to calm her, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “The alarm company alerted my office.”

“A 9-1-1 call came in from a neighbor, as well,” Deputy Weaver added.

Faith covered her mouth with both hands. “Is this
ever
going to stop?” she cried. “What do these people want from me?”

Unfortunately, Troy didn't have any answers.

After conferring with his deputies, he entered the house with Faith. The destruction was minor—a broken window, a lamp on the floor and a toppled vase. Still, it was bad enough. Faith gasped and he put out a hand to steady her.

Troy stayed while his deputies finished their report. After they'd left and the house was quiet again, he turned to her.

“I'll help you straighten up.”

“No,” she said and shook her head. “I can't deal with this now. I'm going to spend the night with Scott and his family.”

Troy could understand how upset she must be. He'd give just about anything to solve this and to find out why Faith, of all people, was being targeted.

“It seems to me,” she said, her voice quavering, “that while you'd like me to remain in Cedar Cove, someone else wants me to leave.”

Nineteen

I
t was the first Tuesday of March and Christie had driven her almost-new car over to Teri's. She tried to visit every few days, especially now that Teri hardly ever left the house anymore.

Christie carried the teapot into the family room, where Teri sat with her swollen feet propped up. “You look wonderful,” she told her sister. Despite everything—Teri's obvious discomfort and the inconvenience of enforced bed rest—it was true.

“I feel like a blimp.” Teri rested her hands on her protruding abdomen. “I've got almost two months to go and by the time I'm ready for that c-section, they'll have to get a forklift to move me.”

Christie laughed. Triplets! Something like this would only happen to Teri. Triplets—and without fertility drugs, too.

“You feel okay, though. Right?” Christie placed the tray with the teapot and two cups on the coffee table and sat on the sofa.

“I feel like Sigourney Weaver in that movie. You know, where she gives birth to an alien. You wouldn't believe
what it's like to have three little soccer players kicking away at my ribs and—”

“Oh, Teri.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

Christie couldn't stop smiling. “You're going to have so much fun with your babies.”

Her sister shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I plan to have fun with them myself. I'm going to love being an aunt.” She knew she'd probably never be a mother, so Teri's babies would have to be hers, too.

Teri and Bobby were both elated, and Christie had never seen a husband more attentive and caring than Bobby. He'd brought Teri real happiness; she'd told Christie that when she'd imagined she was happy in the past, those feelings didn't even compare to what she felt now.