44 Cranberry Point

Judging by the hushed whispers that rippled across the room, it was evident that Cal was a bachelor of interest. From her vantage point, Grace could see that the dog was trembling and seemed even more nervous than Cal, until Cal crouched down and whispered something in the animal's ear, which instantly quieted him. Grace watched in amazement as the pair proceeded down the runway. The bidding was fast and furious, with cutthroat competition between the girls at Get Nailed and—of all people—Corrie McAfee. In the end, Corrie won.

"Do you want the dog or the bachelor?" Barry asked.

Corrie stood while Roy remained seated with the Beldons. "I want both."

"Isn't that your husband you're sitting with?" Barry pretended to sound shocked. "What's happening to our society when married women walk off with all the eligible bachelors because they need their windows washed?"

Corrie grinned. "You've got it all wrong. The dog's for my son, Mack, and the bachelor's for my daughter."

A loud cheer of approval followed as Corrie walked over to the cashier with her checkbook in hand.

The third bachelor was Stan Lockhart, who was paired with a high-strung white poodle. Stan seemed in his element on the runway, unlike the two previous bachelors. He'd apparently been practicing and he played to the crowd, doing a fairly good impression of a model, complete with one hand in his pocket. He was obviously expecting the high bids garnered by the other bachelors. When the winner, a younger blond woman, opted for the dog and not him, his disappointment was noticeable. The bidding started over, and Stan commanded less money than the poodle.

Grace elbowed Olivia, who didn't seem to know exactly how to react; her expression was a mixture of shock, embarrassment and laughter. To everyone's surprise, Charlotte's good friend Bess Ferryman won Stan. The older woman stood up to proudly claim her prize.

"Don't tell me you're married, too?" the auctioneer demanded.

"Nope, and I'm not buying him to wash any windows, either. I've got a hot date in mind."

"Good for you," Barry said approvingly.

"Dinner, and he's buying, followed by ballroom dancing." Bess marched purposefully toward the cashier. For just a moment, it looked as if Stan might balk, but then he dutifully left the stage.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Jack whispered to the others. "I'll bet he doesn't offer his services again anytime soon."

Grace was chatting with Olivia and Charlotte when the next bachelor's name was announced.

Cliff Harding.

This was the moment Grace had been dreading all night. In an effort to prove that she was unaffected, she fixed a smile on her face and stared straight ahead, hoping no one could guess at the turmoil inside her.

Cliff was paired with a lovely female golden retriever. When he stepped onto the stage, he was greeted by loud cheers. Grace had long suspected he'd be one of the key figures at this event, and she was right.

Almost immediately, Margaret White leaped into the bidding. Seconds later, the woman who worked for John L. Scott Realty topped Margaret's two-hundred-dollar bid by another fifty.

"What about you?" Olivia asked, nudging Grace.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Olivia asked, her voice rising with agitation.

It was too complicated to explain. Now wasn't the time to try, so she simply shook her head.

"Grace, you can't just sit there and let some other woman walk away with Cliff. You have to bid."

She felt the same way, but she couldn't do it. While Margaret and the other woman continued to raise each other in fifty-dollar increments, Grace bit her tongue. Her heart pounded like crazy and her mouth went dry as she dealt with two years' worth of confused emotions. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. Damn it, she was going to bid!

"Five hundred dollars, going one, going twice—"

"Seven hundred dollars," Grace shouted suddenly, leaping to her feet. She just hoped the animal shelter would agree to accept payments, because she didn't have that kind of money in her checking account. Seven hundred dollars would put her over the maximum on her credit card, too. She couldn't go a penny higher.

There was a moment of stunned silence. "Seven hundred dollars. Do we have seven hundred and fifty dollars?"

Grace didn't dare look in Cliff's direction.

"Seven hundred and fifty dollars," Margaret White said, and her voice trembled as if to say this was far higher than she'd intended.

"Go for eight hundred," Olivia encouraged, tugging at Grace's sleeve.

Grace sat back down. "No... I shouldn't have bid when I did. I don't have seven hundred dollars, let alone eight."

"Seven hundred and fifty dollars, going once, going twice, going—"

"Eight hundred dollars," Olivia shouted, startling Grace.

Barry pointed the gavel at Margaret White, who shook her head.

"Sold for eight hundred dollars." He punctuated the sale with a bang of the gavel.

Barry Stokes's eyes narrowed as he peered into the audience. He placed both hands on the sides of the podium and leaned forward. "Is that you, Judge Lockhart?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Last I heard, you and Jack Griffin were married. Now, don't tell me there's trouble between you newlyweds already?"

"Nope," Olivia called back. "And I want Cliff and the dog. The dog's for my daughter, Justine, and the bachelor is an early birthday gift for my best friend, Grace Sherman."

"I can't let you do that," Grace insisted in a harsh whisper.

"You can and you will," Olivia said out of the side of her mouth. "Besides, Maryellen and Kelly went in with me." She smiled. "My orders were to bid on Cliff if you didn't—or if you dropped out. I had to bid on the dog, anyway. Justine met her backstage and fell in love with her."

"Maryellen and Kelly?"

"Me, too," Charlotte whispered, leaning across the table. "I did it for Cliff as much as you. As far as I'm concerned, you two belong together."

Grace did look in Cliff's direction then. Although he was relatively close, she couldn't gauge his reaction. All she could hope was that he agreed with Charlotte.

Twenty-Seven

Rachel Pendergast was sweeping up her station at Get Nailed. Her appointments were finished for the day, and she was ready to head back to her house. When the phone rang, she looked up to make sure Valerie, the receptionist was around to answer it. She wasn't, but Tracey grabbed it and then held up the receiver for Rachel.

"It's that little girl," Tracey said. "You cut her hair not too long ago."

"Jolene?"

Tracey shrugged. "She says she has to talk to you."

"All right." Rachel walked over to the desk, where Tracey handed her the phone. She'd been meaning to call Jolene, anyway. "This is Rachel," she said cheerfully.

"You didn't bid on my dad." Jolene sounded as though she was on the verge of tears. "I thought you were going to bid on him at the Dog and Bachelor Auction."

"Hello, Jolene," Rachel said.

"Hi." Her voice was small and sad.

"I think your dad's very nice, but I don't think he's ready for another relationship. Remember how we talked about that? You said you need another mommy and I asked if I could be your friend instead."

"I remember."

"Is your dad there?"

"Yes, but he's in the other room and he doesn't know I'm calling you."

"Let me talk to him, okay?"

"Okay—only I want to know if you bought a dog and a bachelor at the auction."

"I did, but my friend Karen took the dog. And I'm not meeting my bachelor until Friday night."

"Who is he?"

"Well, I don't know much about him except that his name is Nathan Olsen and he's in the navy."

"Is he in love with you?"

She wished! "No, I barely had a chance to talk to him." After the auction, the restaurant had been chaos. Rachel had only a few minutes to speak to Nate before it was time to leave.

"Oh."

"How about if you and I get together next week?"

"Will you paint my fingernails again?" Jolene asked eagerly.

"If you like."

"Can we talk about girl things?"

"Sure."

Jolene sounded happier now. "I'll get my dad."

A moment later, Bruce got on the line. "Jolene phoned you?" he said in a curt voice.

"Yes, but I was planning to get in touch anyway. She saved me the phone call. I'd enjoy spending another afternoon with Jolene. It seemed to do her good—and me, too, for that matter."

He hesitated. "I thought you might bid for me."

Now Bruce was going to harass her about that, too? "You told me you weren't interested in dating," she said as calmly as she could.

"I'm not—just forget it, all right?"

Gladly! Talk about mixed messages. Bruce couldn't have made his feelings any more obvious; he didn't want to get involved—and that was fine with Rachel. "Can I see Jolene?"

"Yeah, sure, that would be great."

They set up a day and time, and Rachel hung up the phone, more confused than ever. She must have had a puzzled expression on her face because Terri came over to stare at her.

"What's with you?" she asked, one hand on her ample hip. "You look like a feather would bowl you over."

"Bruce Peyton wants to know why I didn't bid on him." Even as she spoke, she was astounded that he'd brought it up.

"Don't worry about it," Terri advised. "You choose your own dates."

Rachel made an effort to put Bruce out of her mind. As far as she could tell, he was a lost cause, and she was through with throwing her life away on dead-end relationships.

That Friday night, Rachel arrived at The Lighthouse ten minutes before she was meeting Nate. She sat on the bench in the foyer, waiting nervously.

She wasn't quite sure why she'd plunked down her hard-earned tip money on him. She suspected it was because the auction was almost over and she hadn't made a single bid. Terri and Jane had both bid on men, but had lost out each time. Rachel felt that at least one of the girls from the salon should "score a bachelor," as Terri put it.

But by the end of the evening, Terri was more interested in drinking Fuzzy Navels than bidding on dogs and bachelors. Jane figured she might as well save her money. And Karen Redfern, a married friend from high school, just wanted a dog.

Then Nate Olsen had stepped onto the platform, walking a lovely and self-assured little spaniel who was destined to become Karen's dog. Bruce was navy and apparently a warrant officer, whatever that was. Although Cedar Cove was basically a navy town, being so close to the Bremerton shipyard, Rachel wasn't too familiar with military life.

She tried to remember what she could of their brief conversation that night. He was a nice-looking man. Trim, tall with dark hair and pleasant features. She'd especially noticed his piercing blue eyes.

Rachel glanced up, and those very eyes were looking at her. He was dressed casually in slacks and a short-sleeve shirt and nothing like she remembered. Tall, yes, but blond, not dark-haired. The eyes she had right—a brilliant blue. The nice-looking part was accurate, too, as far as it went. Only she didn't recall him being this attractive. And so young. He must be just out of high school. Good grief, she'd robbed the cradle!