Cedar Cove Collection

Bracing his hand against his forehead, he leaned his elbow on the desk.

A short pause followed his announcement.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Faith asked softly. If her joy had irritated him earlier, her pain left him raw.

“No.”

“Then can I ask why you’ve made this decision?”

He thought about that, too, and how unjust he was being. “No.”

She took a moment to absorb his remark. “I’m not a teenage girl anymore, Troy. Our relationship went wrong all those years ago through no fault of ours. I don’t want it to happen again. Now, please tell me what’s wrong. I deserve to know that much.”

She did, and he had to tell her. “It’s Megan.”

“Your daughter …”

“My daughter might have MS.”

Faith gasped. “Oh, Troy. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve never told her about you and I can’t now.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can,” she agreed sadly.

“When you move to Cedar Cove.” He couldn’t ask her not to move because it wasn’t his right to do so. But at the same time, seeing her around town would be agony.

“I’ve already made that decision, Troy. You were one reason, but there are others, including my son and his family.”

“Of course.” He closed his eyes in an effort to control his feelings. He loved Faith. He’d loved her while they were in high school and he loved her now. Whether she lived in Seattle or Cedar Cove didn’t matter. His love for her wasn’t going to change.

“It might be best if you started seeing someone else,” he said, disregarding the pain it caused him to say that.

Her lack of response filled him with dread. After a minute she said, “Is that what you want, Troy? Do you really want me to see another man?”

“It might be best,” he repeated.

“I don’t think so, but I understand why you feel that way.”

“I’m sorry, Faith. I wish this had worked out for us, but it’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “I’ll be praying for you and your daughter.”

“Thank you.”

He thought he heard her swallow a sob. “Goodbye, then.”

“Goodbye, Faith.”

Forty

Linnette had been working for Buffalo Bob nearly two months now, and she had to admit she’d grown attached to this town called Buffalo Valley. The people were open and friendly, yet they respected her privacy and never asked questions she didn’t want to answer. With one exception.

Pete Mason.

He’d taken to dropping by 3 of a Kind for meals as often as two or three times a week—which wouldn’t bother her if all he did was eat. Oh, no, whenever he came to the restaurant, he made some remark or other about the things she’d blurted out after the tornado. In fact, he didn’t even seem to know he was embarrassing her with his rude comments.

Once, he’d actually brought her popcorn from the town’s lone theater. The stuff dripped with so much melted butter that it leaked through the bag. He’d presented it to her in front of half a dozen patrons, bowing low and making a spectacle of himself and consequently of her. All because she’d casually mentioned one day that she liked popcorn.

Okay, Linnette was willing to confess that she ate the popcorn later—alone in her room.

“Pete likes you,” Merrily told her early on Saturday afternoon.

“I doubt it.” This was a discussion Linnette didn’t want to have. If Pete Mason was the slightest bit attracted to her, he would’ve asked her out on a date by now. There’d certainly been plenty of opportunities. He’d shown more interest in the meat loaf and mashed potato special than in her. As far as she could tell, the only reason he made the long trek into town was so he could humiliate her with all the personal information she’d revealed.

The Grange dance was coming up that evening and nearly everyone in town planned to attend. Because most people were going to be at the dance, Bob and Merrily were closing the restaurant.

“I bet Pete will be there tonight,” Merrily said, shooting her a secretive little smile.

Linnette let that pass. She cleared away the dishes and wiped the counter. The breakfast hour had passed, and the number of customers wandering into the restaurant had slowed to a trickle. In the lull between breakfast and lunch, Linnette usually helped out in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, grating carrots, chopping onions—anything Bob needed her to do. This job was temporary, she knew; still, she found she liked being around these people.

One blessing was that working as a waitress had taken her mind off Cal and Vicki, and for that she was grateful. She’d heard from her mother that the two of them were going on another mustang rescue soon. Corrie had urged her to return to Cedar Cove, but Linnette had already made her decision and that was to stay in Buffalo Valley.

“Is the restaurant open for Thanksgiving?” she asked.

Merrily shook her head. “Most folks prefer to be at home. Buffalo Valley closes up tighter than a drum around the holidays.”

“Oh.”

“If you’re going to be alone, you’re welcome to join us,” Merrily offered. “With three kids, it gets pretty hectic but there’s always room for one more.”

“Thanks,” Linnette said. “I’m not sure what I’ll do yet.”

Merrily studied her. “Are you homesick?”

“Not really.”

“You don’t miss … some people?”

Thanks to Pete Mason, half the town knew she’d been jilted by the man she loved. Just thinking about the way he’d betrayed her confidence made her seethe. She couldn’t imagine what had possessed her to tell Pete the things she had.

Later, as Linnette dressed for the dance, which she’d decided to attend, she thought about that conversation with Merrily. Surprisingly, she wasn’t homesick. She missed her mother and father. Mack, too. And Gloria. Their frequent phone conversations helped.

As for her friends, they were few. Chad had written her a letter and updated her on what was happening at the clinic. He’d also mentioned that he’d talked Gloria into going to dinner with him.

Now that was news. Linnette had believed her sister might agree to a relationship once she was out of the picture. She didn’t understand what the problem was, other than that Gloria seemed to think Linnette had some prior claim. While it was true that at one time she’d had a crush on the doctor, she’d been over him for ages.

When she did communicate with family and friends, no one referred to Cal. That was fine with her. Out of sight, out of mind was the old adage, and it had proved to be the case. She rarely thought of him these days, but if she did, the memory was accompanied by the same deep pain she’d experienced when he’d broken off their relationship.