44 Cranberry Point

“That would be me.”

Charlotte froze. Ben had just declared his love-or so it seemed-and at the most ridiculous of times. She turned to face him. “Are you saying you’re in love with me, Ben Rhodes?”

“I am.” He looked at her directly, meeting her eyes. “The fact is, Charlotte, I’m wondering if you share my feelings.”

He didn’t know? He hadn’t guessed? This was indeed news. With her keys clenched in her hands, she triumphantly lifted them from her purse. “As a matter of fact, I’m head over heels in love with you and have been for quite a while,” she said bluntly. Having admitted her feelings, she blushed and quickly added, “Would you care for a glass of lemonade to celebrate our victory?” She opened the front door.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ben followed her into the house. “I just might steal a kiss while I’m at it.”

“And I just might let you,” Charlotte said with a smile.

Chapter Five

The alarm went off and Grace Sherman glanced at the clock radio on the bedside table. 7:00 a.m. Her one day of the work week to sleep in, and she’d forgotten to turn off the alarm the night before. With the new spring schedule, the library didn’t open until eleven on Wednesdays. But staying in bed now that she was awake seemed pointless. Sighing, she tossed aside the covers, then sat up and slipped her feet into slippers. She quickly made the bed.

Dan, her husband of more than thirty years, had been dead for some time, and she had the entire bed to herself, but she continued to sleep on one half, never disarranging the other. Old habits were persistent. Habits like waking early. Her daily routine gave her structure and comfort in a life that was increasingly out of control.

As little as three years ago, everything had seemed so normal. Her marriage wasn’t particularly happy, but it wasn’t unhappy, either. Her life was comfortable. Predictable. Then Dan had disappeared. For an entire year she’d lived in a state of suspension, not knowing what had happened to him, where he’d gone or who he was with. When she least expected it, just when she’d adjusted to the fact that he must be with someone else, Dan’s body was discovered. He’d died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Grace felt she could deal with Dan’s death. At the time, he’d already been gone a year and she’d learned to live on her own and even found a certain solace in it. During those first dark, lonely months following his disappearance, she’d become acquainted with Cliff Harding, a horse rancher who lived in Olalla. Cliff had wanted a relationship, but he’d been patient, willing to wait until it felt right to her. Prior to her relationship with Cliff, the last time Grace had been out on a date was in high school. The one and only man in her life had been her husband. After she’d buried Dan, she’d finally agreed to see Cliff-but then she’d foundered and made a drastic mistake. Grace had gotten involved with another man via the Internet.

Chatting with Will Jefferson, her best friend’s older brother, had started out innocently enough. From as early as she could remember, Grace had had a crush on Will. That had never gone anywhere, and after high school Will had left for the East Coast, where he attended college and then stayed. He’d written her a letter after Dan’s death, and the correspondence had continued by e-mail. He’d flattered her ego, become her friend, and before she realized what was happening, she’d fallen in love with him, despite the fact that he was married.

She was embarrassed to admit how foolish she’d been. Grace knew from the beginning that Will had a wife. At first she’d pretended they were merely friends and that his marital status didn’t matter. But it did. When Will assured her he was divorcing his wife, she’d wanted to believe him, wanted to be part of his life badly enough to swallow his lies. Thankfully she’d learned the truth in time to save her dignity, but at a painful price.

As a result of her liaison with Will, she’d lost Cliff Harding’s love, friendship and respect. He no longer wanted anything to do with her and after months of neglect, months of misleading him-no, lying to him-she couldn’t blame Cliff at all. He’d said it would be better if they went their separate ways. Twice she’d gone to him. Twice she’d asked for another chance to prove herself. Twice he’d said no.

Grace had wanted to make amends and to recover what she’d lost with Cliff. She now recognized her “love” for Will as the infatuation it was, fueled by the clandestine nature of the relationship. And she recognized the genuineness of her feelings for Cliff.

She was sure Cliff still loved her, too. She saw it, felt it, but he sadly shook his head. Cliff’s wife had cheated on him for years and he refused to become trapped in another relationship where trust was compromised.

As far as Cliff was concerned, it was over between them.

With both Will and Cliff out of her life, Grace was lonely. Terribly lonely. Other than her work, some valued friends and her two daughters and grandchildren, she had few outside interests.

Dressed in her robe and slippers, she moved slowly into the kitchen, Buttercup, her golden retriever, at her heels. The dog ventured outside through the doggy door, and Grace picked up the local newspaper from the front porch and placed it on the kitchen table. While Buttercup did her business, Grace prepared a pot of coffee.

Her sense of loneliness was accentuated even more now that Olivia had remarried. Grace was happy for her dearest friend and yet she was afraid that Olivia wouldn’t have as much time for her anymore. She was ashamed of her Internet lapse with Olivia’s brother, and felt somewhat distanced from Olivia as a result.

“Well, Buttercup,” Grace murmured as the dog came back inside. “Shall we see what’s on the agenda for today?” She poured herself a cup of coffee while Buttercup lapped water from her bowl. A fund-raising committee meeting for the animal shelter was scheduled for that evening. One positive thing Grace had done for herself after the breakups with both Will and Cliff was to become a volunteer at the Cedar Cove Animal Shelter.

Two Saturdays a month she interviewed potential pet owners, walked and fed the animals and did whatever else she could to be useful. Janet Webb, who was in charge of fund-raising, had asked Grace to be on her committee and she’d gladly accepted.

Buttercup finished her drink and sat down at Grace’s feet while Grace sipped her coffee. As she mulled over her day, she scanned the headlines, then got dressed-khaki cotton trousers, a white tailored shirt, her favorite black blazer-and drove to the library.

Grace’s afternoon passed quickly. Following work, rather than race home before her meeting, Grace strolled along the waterfront. The marina was lovely, especially this time of year. In a couple of months, the Thursday-night Concerts on the Cove would start again. Cliff had often joined her for the concerts. They’d buy dinner and sit on the grass…Grace shook her head in an effort to dispel her memories of Cliff. He’d insisted it was over and she had no choice but to accept his decision.

Before she left for the meeting, Grace went to the Potbelly Deli where she bought a sandwich, eating it at a small table by herself. Then she drove out to the shelter.

Janet Webb and the other committee members had already arrived. “I’m so glad you’re on our committee,” Janet said and introduced Grace to Mary Sanchez and Margaret White, both long-standing volunteers. Janet and Margaret were about the same age as Grace, but Mary was in her mid-thirties.

“We’re looking for something that’ll bring the entire community together,” Janet explained as Grace took a seat at the table in the conference room. “For the last few years we’ve done the usual bake sales and car washes.”

“We had a dog wash that one year,” Margaret reminded her.

“Yes, and while those fund-raising events have been successful, they’ve been fairly small-scale. I’d like something with a little more…punch.”

“What about a bachelor auction?” Mary suggested excitedly. It was clear she’d been thinking about the idea for quite some time and was nearly out of her chair with enthusiasm. “I’ve read about them and I think it’s a wonderful idea, don’t you?”

Janet hesitated. “Maybe, but I’m married and so are a lot of other women in town.”

“Yes, but I’m not and, well, I know I’d certainly be willing to pay for the pleasure of having a handsome man at my disposal for an entire evening.” She glanced eagerly toward Grace. “I’ll bet other single women would, too.”

Grace wasn’t so sure, but she hated to squelch Mary’s enthusiasm. “Has anyone else noticed that there seem to be more animals that need adoption lately?” she asked. “Especially dogs…” The ideas started to churn in her mind. “What about a dog auction-or perhaps the shelter could do that along with the bachelors?”

“A dog and bachelor auction?”

“Why not?” Grace asked. “We could pair up the dogs with the bachelors.”

Janet seemed to be considering the idea. “That sounds promising.”

“The dog would be auctioned off first, and then the bachelor. Or the other way around.”

“The bachelors would need to be a variety of ages, right?” Mary asked.

“Of course,” Janet said, smiling ever so slightly.

Grace could tell that she was warming to the idea.

“Be sure and ask Cliff Harding to participate,” Margaret White said, leaning closer to the table. “I think he’s the most adorable man I’ve seen in ages, and he’s single, too.”

“Who?” Janet asked, frowning.

“Cliff Harding,” Margaret repeated. “You obviously haven’t noticed him around town, but trust me, I have. He’s a hunk.”

Mary looked across the table at Grace. “You were going out with him for a while, weren’t you?”

It was all Grace could do to nod. Cliff was a natural choice for the bachelor auction. Her enthusiasm for the project did a nosedive, but she didn’t dare show her feelings.

“Can you think of anyone else who’d agree to be auctioned off for charity?” Janet asked.

“Bruce Peyton,” Grace suggested with a shrug. “He’s a widower who brings his daughter into the library once a week.”

“Ah, yes,” Mary said. “I remember when his wife was killed in an automobile accident. When was that, anyway?”

“It must’ve been two or three years ago,” Margaret replied. “I knew her mother, Sandy. Tragic, tragic accident. I think Stephanie’s death was what killed her. Sandy was gone within a year-cancer.”

Grace felt terrible for the little girl who’d lost both her mother and grandmother within such a short period. She didn’t know Bruce well, but he seemed loving and protective of his daughter. She didn’t envy him the task of raising the little girl on his own.