Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (84 page)

If what Tanni said was true, and Shirley strongly suspected it was, poor Miranda was setting herself up for
heartache. Shirley had recognized the type of man Will Jefferson was ten seconds into their first meeting. Will was all about Will, as Tanni might have put it. Handsome and charming, he was accustomed to having women fawn over him. More than that, he'd come to expect it.

Shirley had to admit Miranda didn't possess the classic beauty that typically appealed to men like Will Jefferson. Tall and solidly built, Miranda easily stood five-eleven, and with heels—although she rarely wore anything but sensible shoes—she was over six feet tall.

Shirley felt that Will's usual preference was an empty-headed woman so he could be her intellectual superior. Miranda was his equal in every way. The fact that Will had made a blatant play for Shirley was—to her mind—more of an insult than a compliment.

Even Tanni had picked up on Miranda's interest in him and Shirley worried for her friend. She doubted that Miranda was prepared for a Will Jefferson or the effect he might have on her emotions.

“What movie are you going to see?” Tanni asked, unaware of the thoughts swirling around in Shirley's head.

“We haven't decided yet.”

“I'll be home before ten,” Tanni said, reaching for her car keys. She was out the door, munching on the apple as she went.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot she'd made earlier, Shirley sat down at the kitchen table, wondering what to do with this unwelcome information. If she said anything to Miranda, it would only embarrass her friend. And any warning about Will would likely be dismissed out of hand.

Shirley glanced at her watch and, noticing the time, quickly got up from her chair. Taking one last sip, she left the mug in the kitchen sink, hurried to change her clothes
and freshen her makeup, then headed out the door. She was supposed to meet Miranda at the Harbor Street Art Gallery at three-thirty.

The drive took less than ten minutes. When she stepped into the gallery, the first thing she heard was Miranda's raised voice. “I'm telling you, the Chandler painting will look better on this wall,” she was saying.

“No! It'd be better there,” Will Jefferson said, just as heatedly.

“Hello?” Shirley called out.

Miranda responded immediately. “Shirley, come over here. We need your opinion.”

Great. Now she was going to be drawn into this argument, too. She walked toward them and glanced at the painting that seemed to be the subject of their disagreement. “Are you ready for the movie, Miranda?” she asked, hoping to avoid taking sides.

“Look at this,” Miranda insisted, gesturing at the watercolor.

The piece was stunning, the color choices vibrant and inviting. It portrayed a young girl in a blue cotton summer dress, biking past a white picket fence in a seashore town. A wide variety of flowers bloomed along the fence line. The girl's innocence was in subtle contrast to her unconscious feminine appeal. In style, it was naturalistic but its shimmering colors were influenced by classic Impressionism. “This is a lovely work.”

“I agree,” Will said, speaking for the first time. “And I want it displayed in the way that will benefit it the most.”

“I think it should be on
this
wall and Will says—quite irrationally, I believe—that it should be
there
.” Miranda indicated the opposite side of the gallery.

“Irrational,” Will repeated from between clenched teeth. “If anyone's irrational, it's you. If we hang the
painting on the wall I suggest, it'll be the first thing people see when they enter the gallery.”

“
This
wall reveals it in the best light,” Miranda countered.

“You both have valid points,” Shirley said when they turned to her. “Why don't you compromise?”

“No.” Will shook his head. “This is
my
gallery, despite what Miranda seems to think, and we'll do this my way because—” he paused “—I'm the boss.” This was said in a challenging voice, as if he expected Miranda to resign. As if he wanted her to.

“Fine. Hang it wherever you like,” Miranda said, brushing her hands in exasperation.

“That's exactly what I intend to do.”

Miranda sighed and, ignoring Will, said, “Have you ever noticed how important it is to the fragile male ego to have the last word?”

Shirley tried to disguise a smile, but Will obviously wasn't amused.

He bristled. “That is categorically untrue.”

Motioning with her head, Miranda seemed to imply that his statement only proved her point.

“Are you ready to go now?” Shirley asked.

“Be right with you.” Miranda disappeared around the corner and returned an instant later with her purse and raincoat.

“Which movie are you going to?” Will asked Shirley conversationally.

“Not sure yet.”

“Well, have fun.”

“We will,” Miranda muttered.

He walked them to the door. “I've got you on the schedule for Monday,” he said.

“Monday?” Miranda frowned. “I thought I only worked Tuesday, Friday and Saturday.”

“Would you mind filling in for me? I'm meeting with the insurance people on behalf of my mother and Ben.”

“No, of course I don't mind, but I would've appreciated knowing about it sooner.”

“Sorry. I forgot to mention it.”

They stared at each other and then Miranda nodded. “I'll be here at ten.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” she said brusquely.

As they made their way to her car, Shirley considered Tanni's observation about Miranda's feelings for Will. She also suspected that, despite their bickering, he was actually fond of her—and maybe he respected her more than he let on. He'd certainly come to rely on her.

“Did you choose a movie?” Miranda asked. “What about the latest Matt Damon picture?”

“Sure.”

“I have the entertainment section of the paper and—” Miranda paused to look at her watch. “This is perfect. The next show starts in less than thirty minutes, which gives us time to drive there, buy our tickets and get our popcorn.”

“Sounds good.”

“Did you talk to Larry this afternoon?” Miranda asked as they got into Shirley's car. Her own would stay at the art gallery, and Shirley would drop her off there after the movie.

“For two hours.”

“Two hours!”

Shirley laughed. Neither of them had wanted to end the conversation. “Long-distance relationships are difficult,” she said. “So, this is how we stay in touch.”

“Why don't you just get married? I don't know any two people better suited to each other.”

“I wish it was that easy, but I can't uproot Tanni when she still has a year of high school.”

“Who said you had to move right away?” Miranda said.

“Well, as I told my daughter, there's one small detail. Larry hasn't asked and at this stage I'd be shocked if he did. I wish everyone would remember we only met a few months ago.”

“What was your phone bill last month? And his?”

Shirley rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. Okay, we spend a
lot
of time on the phone. Today wasn't an exception.” Whenever he called her, whenever she called him, Shirley felt like a teenager again. Her heart would leap with joy at the sound of his voice.

They'd reached the movie complex, and Shirley parked. They purchased their tickets and popcorn and were about to enter the theater when her cell phone rang.

It was Larry, which struck her as odd, since they'd already talked that day.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked excitedly.

“No. Miranda and I are just walking into the theater.” She was juggling her popcorn, purse, drink and the cell phone, afraid of dropping one, when Miranda helped by taking the large soda out of her hands. “What's up?”

“Are you busy next weekend?”

“Next weekend?” She momentarily closed her eyes, trying to remember if anything was written on the kitchen calendar. “I don't think so… Why?”

“I want you to fly down to California.”

“California? Aren't you supposed to be in Nashville next weekend?”

“Yes, but the lecture was postponed.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I'm not. I want you to meet me at my home in California. I know it's last-minute and I apologize, but I only just heard about this. Tell me you'll be able to come.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“What about Tanni and Nick?”

“I'm pretty sure they're available. I'll have to check.”

“Wonderful. I want all of you to meet my children.”

“Your children,” she repeated.

“Yes, I feel they should meet the woman I intend to marry.”

Shirley froze. The bag of popcorn she held fell from her hand and spilled its contents on the floor.

Six

L
inc Wyse stepped outside the Wyse Man Garage and leaned against the building. Staying inside that office a moment longer would've been intolerable. The bills were piling up and he had nothing to pay them with. His bank account, which had been substantial and was supposed to carry him for six months, was nearly empty.

The frustration was killing him. Marrying Lori and keeping it a secret from her family, which hadn't been his choice but hers, had created a fierce enemy in Lori's father. Linc had tried but he'd been unable to convince Leonard Bellamy that he loved Lori, that he hadn't married his daughter for her money. Not that Lori
had
any money now, except what she earned herself. But Linc didn't care; he never had.

Despite that, Bellamy was out to ruin him and he was close to succeeding.

As Linc stared out at the street, a familiar truck passed, slowed down and then came to a stop in front of the garage. His brother-in-law. Linc straightened when Mack McAfee rolled down the driver's window and called out, “Hey, Linc, how's it going?”

Linc managed a grimace that he hoped would pass for a grin. “It's going.”

“You don't look that busy. Do you want to join me?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Mary Jo's working late, Noelle's at day care and I just finished helping a friend move. A beer sounds good to me.”

“It does to me, too, but I'd better stay here in case a job comes in.” The mid-September sunshine made for a warm afternoon, not that Linc noticed the weather much. With no work, he'd sent the men home. No point in paying for idle hands—but it would be just his luck to have two or three people show up and find no one there. That was a chance he couldn't afford to take.

“Tell you what. I'll pick us up a six-pack and be right back.”

Mack returned within fifteen minutes, got out of his truck and handed Linc a can. They sat in the office. Leaning back in his chair, Linc pulled the tab off the cold beer and took a long swallow, enjoying the taste. “Thanks,” he said to Mack, saluting him with the beer.

Mack nodded. “Haven't seen much of you lately,” he commented.

Linc hadn't been getting out. He didn't have the inclination or, these days, the extra cash. But rather than respond, he shrugged.

“You look like a man who's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.” Mack leaned back, too. “Trouble?”

Once more he answered with a shrug. He was tired of holding everything inside and yet he was used to keeping his own counsel. Fixing his own problems. But this time he couldn't. Bellamy was blackballing him—no other word for it—and the business was sinking fast. Not
even Lori knew the extent of what her father had done, nor did she fully understand their financial situation. For that he had only himself to blame. Linc had told her next to nothing about any of this. Lori was angry enough with her father. Foolish and unrealistic though it seemed now, Linc had hoped to bring father and daughter together. It'd never been his intention to drive a wedge into their already strained relationship.

“Everyone's got trouble,” Linc replied when he realized Mack was waiting for a response.

“True, but not all trouble is created equal, if you know what I mean.”

“Right,” Linc agreed.

“I'm here if you want to talk about it.”

Linc regarded the man his sister had married. He'd liked Mack from the start, although he'd initially had doubts about their living arrangement. He'd gotten over those doubts pretty fast. A firefighter and paramedic, Mack had helped deliver Noelle, Mary Jo's baby girl. While it had bothered him that Mary Jo didn't live close to her family, he'd felt better knowing Mack was nearby. They'd shared a duplex, he on one side and she on the other. They'd married earlier in the year and Linc was happy for his sister.

“You might have noticed I'm not exactly overwhelmed with work here,” Linc began, finally giving in to the relief of divulging his problems to a sympathetic listener. “I'm not inexperienced in this business and I did my homework. By my calculations, I should have more repairs than I can handle.”

Mack gestured with his beer can. “Leonard Bellamy?”

Linc nodded. “Well, it's not like you didn't warn me.”

Mack sat up straight, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“Yeah, but I don't think I knew Bellamy wields
that
much power in Cedar Cove.”

“And Bremerton and all the surrounding areas, too, apparently. I couldn't even guess what rumor he's floating about me, but whatever it is, people in this community are buying it.”

“I suppose that's causing problems between you and Lori.”

Linc glanced away, avoiding his brother-in-law's eyes.

Mack nudged him. “Are you telling me she doesn't
know?
”

“No one does.”

“So Lori's in the dark about all this?”