Stargazey Point (31 page)

Dominic nodded with an elegance that made the gesture a bow. “I’d shake hands but as you see . . .” He lifted the tray.

“Dom is the owner of the Gaillard Gallery across the street.”

Abbie nodded. She’d wondered how an art gallery managed to stay in business here. Having met the owner, she imagined that he sold on pure charisma.

“And don’t listen to anything he says. He has wonderful pieces on display.”

Dom turned his smile on Bethanne. “Saw your ad in the
Courier
. I’m thinking about taking one out myself. Now I must get going. The troops will mutiny if their cappuccinos are cold.”

“Does he live around here?” Abbie asked as she watched Dom hurry down the sidewalk.

“He has a gallery in Charleston, too, but he spends most of the summer here.”

Penny came from behind the counter to relieve Abbie of her basket of lettuce. “Bless you. And thank Marnie beaucoodles. Sit down. Just give me a minute to put this away.”

Bethanne waved to two women sitting in the corner. “They run the gift and souvenir shop.” She sat down. “I always love this time of year. Before the tourists come and everyone is gearing up for the season.” She sighed. “It always seems so hopeful.”

“Well, I predict this season will be wonderful,” said Abbie with forced enthusiasm. This end of town might turn into a quaint little seaside resort, but it made her end of town seem all the shabbier.

“Bethanne, why don’t they fix up the other part of town? Everyone has to pass through it to get to the beach, don’t they?”

“Pretty much, and it is an eyesore. But what can you do? The pier can’t be salvaged, and the town can’t afford to rebuild it. Several of the buildings were abandoned by their owners. They’ve been begging Hadley just to paint the front façade, and he just won’t budge. I don’t understand why he has to be so stubborn.”

Abbie thought she knew. Hadley was holding on to what he knew, where he was comfortable, with the only thing he had left.

Penny brought new-looking menus. “I recommend the blueberry crumb cake. It’s darn good if I do say so myself.”

They ordered the crumb cake.

“I’ve got to stop eating like this,” Abbie said. “Between Millie’s cooking and Penny’s desserts . . .”

“You might be in danger of fitting back in your clothes.”

“I’m beginning to.” Abbie had bought the jeans after she returned from South America. She’d lost weight and continued to lose since then. Stress and grief and anger could do that to you. She took it as a good sign that she was on her way back from despair. Marnie was right; she hadn’t had a nightmare or an overwhelming attack of grief in days.

Bethanne reached out. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, actually. Yeah. I think I am.”

Bethanne smiled, but she looked a little sad. “It’s hard to let go, isn’t it? You’re going along and suddenly you realize that you weren’t sad for five minutes, then one day it’s several hours and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, and if you deserve to be happy.”

Abbie just looked at her. “Why wouldn’t you deserve to be happy?”

Bethanne shrugged. “It just seems like cheating.”

Penny deposited plates and cups on the table. “You two don’t look like you’re looking forward to my spec-i-al-i-ty. I know what happened last night at the center. Ran into Kyle’s mama at the market this morning. But it isn’t all bad. You and Sarah will think of something. Now eat.” She bustled away.

They spent the next few minutes digging into the rich cake, moist with berries.

“Have you thought any about our conversation at the gazebo?” Bethanne asked. “About Weddings by the Sea.”

“Sort of.”

“I could use a partner.”

“Me?” Abbie shook her head. “Bethanne, I appreciate it, but you need someone who knows what she’s doing.”

“I need someone who knows how important the inn and Weddings by the Sea is to me. It was Jim’s and my dream.” She smiled tremulously. “You could live at the inn for free.”

Abbie had toyed with the idea herself, but only for a second.

Bethanne sighed. “It was just an idea.”

Penny appeared at the table. “I’m seeing frowns over here. You two don’t want people to think you don’t like my blueberry crumb cake, do you?”

Abbie shot her a relieved look. “The crumb cake is delicious.”

“That’s what I thought.” Penny gave Bethanne a look. “And what about you?”

“Yummy. It really is.”

“That’s better. Now no more frowning. Summer is almost upon us. Time’s a-wasting.”

A
s Abbie walked back to the center she thought about Bethanne’s proposition. Weddings by the Sea. Somehow she didn’t think Werner would approve of using his insurance money to start a wedding business.

On the other hand, how else could she support herself in Stargazey Point? She wasn’t ready to leave. And it wasn’t just because she had no place else to go. She liked it here and was becoming attached to the people who lived here.

She was tired of the nomadic life. Always moving on, never putting down deep roots. She was raised that way, moving from one town to another as her parents moved from one project to another.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” her mother would ask when any of them wanted to stay in the same school for another year, when they longed for a room that was just theirs and not shared with siblings, stray animals, or stray children who needed to be fostered.

And look at them now. All of them still moving, still living project to project.

Abbie didn’t want to be a citizen of the world. She wanted to be a citizen of one spot on earth. One little town. Maybe one like this town. Maybe this town.

The sound of hammering brought her back to reality. She needed to get online and look for real work instead of thinking about working for Bethanne and kissing Cab.

“Watch out!” A sheet of roofing slid off the carousel roof. Abbie jumped back, just managing to get out of the way as it crashed to the ground. And she realized she was standing amid the rubble of the previous carousel roof.

“Sorry. Didn’t see you,” the workman called from the roof.

“My fault,” Abbie yelled back. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Because she was fantasizing about a life that was clearly not meant for her. She readjusted her bag and picked her way through the detritus.

She met Cab coming through the carousel door. “Is everything okay? I heard yelling.”

“I wandered too close to the roofers.” She blew a stray bit of hair out of her eyes. “New roof. It looks nice.”

Cab pulled his gaze away from hers. “Yep, and a new coat of paint day after tomorrow. Then we’ll reinstall the animals . . . if I can ever figure out the order.” He shot his fingers through his hair, which was looking a little longer than usual.

“Does there have to be a specific order?”

“Yes.”

“Besides aesthetic reasons?”

He laughed slightly. “Well, besides my stubborn desire to bring it back the way it was, it would make the rejoining a lot smoother without having to stoop to trial and error that can damage the horses and the rods. The standers are larger than the jumpers and since the circumference of the circle diminishes as you move inside, it’s pretty important to get it right.”

“Are there photos of the original?”

“A few. Do you want to see them?”

“I would love to see them, and I still have some time before the horde arrives.”

He took her inside to where three flatscreen computers were set up near the carousel. One screen showed a grainy black-and-white photo of a close-up of the carousel. The next was a wider color shot of an entire horse. Abbie could see the nose of the horse behind it. She looked back at the first screen. It could be the same horse.

“See? A pretty frustrating endeavor.”

“Yes.” She was sympathetic, but mainly she was thinking what she’d be able to teach the kids at the center if she had a setup like this. But that wasn’t the point. “What about Silas and Beau and some of the older people in town? They might remember.”

“I’ve already asked. This is pretty much what we’ve come up with.” He clicked on a file and a schematic of the carousel appeared. Abbie moved closer to look at the circles that represented the rods. Some of them had a letter inside. Some were blank, and others had two letters separated by a slash.

“This represents the leader.” Cab pointed to a circle in red. “I remember he came behind the Neptune chariot.”

“Neptune chariot?”

He opened a picture file. “I took these as I unwrapped it.”

It looked like a chariot, only instead of wheels, it rode on aqua-painted waves that curled along the sides. In front, Neptune arched like the prow of a ship, wild haired, golden crowned, trident raised in his hand. And in back an enormous tail curved above the heads of the riders.

“It’s magnificent,” Abbie said.

“It is. And this is the leader.”

Another photo, this one of a large palomino decked out in full regalia, a red-and-gold bridle studded with jewels, plated armor, and festooned saddle. Even in a computer image he appeared larger than life.

“I can’t wait to see it. It’s strange, but I just felt that thrill that I used to get as a child. When will you have it up and running?”

She turned from the computer to look at Cab.

He was looking at her, not the images, and he hadn’t seemed to hear her.

“Cab?”

“Huh? Soon I hope. I just need to find the right setup.”

“Maybe the kids can ask their parents.”

“Good luck. I’ve already asked everybody in town. One person remembers one way and the other something entirely different. I guess when you’re enjoying yourself, you don’t pay much attention to what’s around you.” He paused, shrugged. Smiled. “I don’t.”

C
ab stood staring at the computer screen long after Abbie left to go to the center. She’d been excited, really excited. Evidently it was easier to relate to his carousel than it was to him. But he couldn’t complain. She was about the first person besides Beau who didn’t question his rationale or his sanity.

She was genuinely excited about what he was doing. More excited than she was about him.

And so what if she was. She was obviously not ready for any kind of relationship. And neither was he. They would just keep having dinner and talking about carousels until she decided it was time to go.

And that could be any time at all. She was just a bit unpredictable. Okay, a lot unpredictable and he didn’t need that kind of woman in his life. And what the hell was he thinking anyway? If it were summer and they were two different people, they might have had a vacation fling. But not the way things were now. Was he crazy?

She was carrying way too much baggage. Emotionally fragile. Intriguing but unstable. In need of saving? He was no savior, and the only white horse around here would soon be circling the carousel.

Then he thought of her yesterday, a fierce tigress who took on an out-of-control drunk to protect those two kids. Not so fragile.

He pulled over a stool and sat down peering at the computer but not really seeing anything but Abbie’s face when they’d rushed into the center last night. How her taut lean body was poised for a fight. And how his body had responded.

Did she feel anything like that toward him? Could she?

“Making any headway?” Beau asked, coming up beside him.

“Huh? Not really.” Especially since his concentration had just followed a line of inappropriate thoughts about Beau’s houseguest.

“Well, you’ll figure it out. Be patient.” Beau braced his hand on the worktable and leaned over the computer. “Neptune. I remember him. Kissed a few girls under that tail.” He chuckled, placed a reassuring hand on Cab’s shoulder, and wandered back into the workshop.

A
bbie was testing broken equipment and disposing of most of it, when Sarah arrived, carrying a tote bag half her size. She walked right past the open door without looking or slowing down.

“Hey,” Abbie called and followed her down the hall.

She found Sarah leaning into the fridge.

“What’s up?” Abbie asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Nothing but my blood pressure.” Sarah brought out two bottles of water.

Tossed one to Abbie and they both sat down at the table.

“Want to talk about it?”

Sarah snorted. “Sure. Why not. I woke up to a call from the university; my paper for the
Review
is late. They want me to come back and start structuring a minor in cultural anthro, which we were supposed to work on this past spring, but
they
got busy.

“That was followed by a trip to the police station, where I filed a complaint for destruction of property, harassment, and a bunch of other stuff, which took hours and won’t keep the bastard in jail any longer than drunk and disorderly.

“After that I had to go deal with social services. Ervina insisted on going along. She wanted temporary custody of the twins. They took one look at that crazy old woman, and I thought it was over. Then their supervisor comes over. Says, ‘you give her custody.’ There was no hearing, not even an interview.”

Sarah smiled for the first time. “She knew Ervina from some ungodly group and was afraid Ervina would put the conjure on them. They signed those papers so fast we were out on the sidewalk before I knew what was happening. First time I’ve ever been glad to have a crazy-as-a-loon great-grandmother.”

“Is it legal?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t think anyone will contest it. Eddie’s already scared she gave him the scabies from the last time he tried to hurt those kids.

“Looks like my old granny is a new mama.”

She scrubbed her face with her hands then took a long drink of water.

Abbie jumped in. “I was thinking. What if while we’re filming the carousel, we interview the parents who remember the old one? We might even get a bit of family history along the way.

“We can set up an interview room here at the center and nab them when they come to pick up their kids.”

“And you think they’ll do it?”

“Yes. We just need to give them a little incentive.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said, her normal glint back in her eye. “We do have a not-so-secret weapon.”