92 Pacific Boulevard

“Now, go back inside where it’s warm,” Grace said urgently. “We’ve got things to do out here. We’ll call you when we’re done so you can inspect our work.”

Olivia dashed away tears and nodded.

As soon as she was safely back in the house, Grace and company began their task. With everyone pitching in, it took only an hour to get the flower beds weeded and planted.

Peggy, an experienced gardener, turned the soil and added mulch before Corrie inserted the tender plants into the rich-looking earth.

With Jack’s assistance, Grace and Faith set the flower boxes on the ledge around the front porch and arranged ivy and pansies in each.

Charlotte and Ben were inside, getting everything ready for lunch.

Just as they broke off before going in to eat, Sheriff Davis’s patrol car turned the corner and stopped directly across the street. He got out, strolling toward them. “I received word of a disturbance on Lighthouse Road,” he said in mock-serious tones.

Everyone laughed, but although he’d addressed the whole group, his eyes sought out Faith. Grace glanced over at her companion, whose face was flushed with what Grace assumed was pleasure.

The last she’d heard, they’d ended their relationship. Judging by Faith’s heightened color and the intense look in Troy’s eyes, there’d been some kind of reconciliation. However, neither seemed prepared to speak.

Grace thought it was time to intervene. “Hello, Sheriff,” she said, pulling off her gloves. “What can we do for you?”

“I came by to see if there was any way I could help. I, uh, heard about what you’re doing and I’d like to be part of it.”

“We’ve got everything under control, but thanks for the offer.”

“We were about to stop for lunch,” Jack said. “Care to join us?”

Troy hung back. “Are you sure there’s enough?” he asked uncertainly.

“Charlotte did the cooking,” Jack told him. “So, trust me, there’s more than enough.”

“In that case, thanks. I’d like to.”

“Good,” Grace said with genuine happiness—a feeling visibly shared by Faith. She wondered what had happened to change things between those two.

They took turns washing up. By the time they were all finished, Charlotte invited them into the dining room to eat. Grace smiled at her yellow apron with its sunflower-shaped bib.

“We’re serving buffet style,” she announced, waving her arms expansively.

“I can’t believe you’d do this,” Olivia said, standing next to her mother. “All of you.”

“We wanted you to know how much we care,” Peggy said, plate in hand as she circled the table. “Wow, look at this fabulous food.” There were three different kinds of salads, deviled eggs and freshly baked bread with ham, turkey and cheese slices for sandwiches. Charlotte had also included canned goods from her garden—sweet pickles, dill pickles, pickled beets, plus jams, jellies, peaches and pears.

“Oh, my goodness, I nearly forgot,” Grace said. She hurried to the door. “I left something in the car. Be right back.”

Grace returned two minutes later, carrying a pie box. “Goldie sent this over from the Pancake Palace.”

Olivia’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Coconut cream?”

“What else?”

They served themselves and sat in a circle around the room, balancing their plates on their laps.

“I feel like the luckiest woman alive,” Olivia said, once more sounding close to tears.

“We love you and want to see you well again,” Corrie told her.

“And back in the courthouse where you belong,” Sheriff Davis added.

He’d taken the chair beside Faith’s.

Grace was startled by a sudden knock at the door; before Jack could get up to open it, in walked Cliff, Bob Beldon and Roy McAfee.

“I hoped we’d timed it so we’d be here for lunch,” Cliff said.

“Help yourselves, boys,” Charlotte said. She stood and got them each a plate and a napkin, while Jack and Ben brought out three chairs from the kitchen. The new arrivals filled their plates and joined the circle.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank everyone,” Olivia said.

“We don’t need any thanks,” Grace told her. “We wanted to do this. In fact, it’s been in the planning stages for weeks—I actually had to turn people down. So many of your friends wanted to contribute. You are loved, Olivia, and this is just our attempt to let you know that.”

“Well, I’d say you’ve done a more than adequate job….”

Olivia looked around the room, her gaze resting on each one in turn. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled tremulously at Grace. “I’ll have a piece of that coconut cream pie now.”

Twenty-One

“I got a job!” Mary Jo’s excited voice burst over Mack’s cell phone.

He turned away from the other men in the break room at the fire station and concentrated on his phone. He hadn’t expected a call from Mary Jo and it jolted him, since they almost always communicated by texting. “That’s great.” He mentally reviewed their past messages and he couldn’t recall her mentioning another job interview.

“I probably shouldn’t have phoned you at work, but I’m so thrilled I can hardly sit still. A job changes everything.”

He assumed the job was in Seattle, and his heart sank. The interview with Will Jefferson hadn’t led to employment; the owner of the Harbor Street Art Gallery had only been able to offer a part-time position. Will couldn’t tell her when the job would become full-time—“eventually” was the most he could promise—so Mary Jo felt she had to pass. Mack didn’t blame her, although he’d been disappointed.

Meeting Will Jefferson had given her confidence, and she’d decided to start applying elsewhere, presumably in Seattle; she hadn’t referred to any particular places.

“Tell me about your job,” he said, trying to hide his own lack of enthusiasm. Ever since he’d talked to Mary Jo about moving, he’d created the ideal scenario in his mind. He pictured Mary Jo and Noelle living next door to him and imagined the three of them spending time together. A lot of time…

“I’ll be working in an attorney’s office,” Mary Jo was saying, “which I thought would be perfect, because, well…you know?”

This seemed to indicate that she’d have a built-in resource should David Rhodes try to interfere with her and Noelle.

“The money isn’t as much as I could make in Seattle, but the cost of living in Cedar Cove is quite a bit less, right?”

It was 4:00 p.m., and the shift change was taking place as they spoke. Mack waved to his friends, cell phone to his ear, and started out of the station house. “Wait!” Not until he was close to his car did it hit him. “Are you saying you have a job here—in town? In Cedar Cove?”

“Yes.” She sounded surprised by his question, as if he should know. “I’ll be working for Allan Harris.”

“Where are you now?”

“Mocha Mama’s,” she told him. “I’m celebrating with a latte.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Five, if he could manage it.

Mack snapped his phone shut and trotted the last few steps to his car. He’d had plans but they could wait; seeing Mary Jo was more important. His next shift at the fire station wasn’t until Friday, which gave him two full days to finish painting both units. Once that was accomplished, he’d be all set to rent out the other half of the duplex. He’d already moved in, but for the moment was more or less living in chaos.

He knew exactly who he wanted as a tenant. Mary Jo would need a place to live—and what better place than right next door to him? He’d mentioned it once but in a vague way, not identifying himself as the owner. He didn’t feel completely comfortable with the deception, but wasn’t sure how she’d react if she knew. Mary Jo was cautious and uncertain about men, all men. Given her history, Mack could understand it. He’d like to meet David Rhodes in a back alley someday, but that wasn’t likely to happen; for one thing, the guy was obviously avoiding Cedar Cove.

Mack drove down the hill to Mocha Mama’s and parked nearby. As he hurried inside, through yet another light rain, he saw Mary Jo sitting by the window, sipping her latte. She smiled when he walked in.

“Hi,” he said, brushing the moisture from his coat and hair.

“Hi!” she returned, grinning widely, her happiness unmistakable—an uncomplicated joy he hadn’t seen since the night Noelle was born.

He suddenly realized Noelle was nowhere in sight. “Where’s the baby?”

“A friend of mine is watching her this afternoon. This is the first time I’ve been away from Noelle, and I feel like part of me is missing. Jenna said I have to stop phoning, because whenever I do I wake the baby.”

Mack glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll get an espresso and join you in a minute.”

The young man he recognized as Shaw was behind the counter. They exchanged greetings, then Shaw brewed Mack his double shot. Back at Mary Jo’s table, Mack sat across from her, draping his coat on the empty chair beside him.

“So,” he said, leaning toward her. “Tell me how you came to hear about the job with the attorney.”

“Kelly Jordan told me Mr. Harris was looking for an assistant and—”

“Sorry, who’s Kelly Jordan?”

“Grace Harding’s daughter. Don’t you remember, Grace was the one who suggested Kelly as a possible day-care provider? It was the day we met at the library.” She smiled. “Kelly’s little girl, Emma Grace, is starting to walk now.”

“Oh, yeah.” He had a dim memory of the conversation; he’d been too occupied with Noelle to pay much attention. “So you found someone to do day care before you had a job? That was smart.”

“Well, yes. I had to be okay with whoever was going to be taking care of Noelle before I could even think about employment.”

He nodded.

“Men just don’t consider things like that,” she went on. “I know Linc didn’t, but then my big brother can be pretty dense.”

“Oh, yes, your big brother. How’s Linc doing these days?” Mary Jo’s brother was overprotective to the point of obtrusiveness, and she resented his domineering attitude. Mack sympathized with her, but he also understood Linc’s point of view.

Mary Jo stirred her latte. “As you might’ve guessed, Linc’s not very happy with me at the moment.”

“Why not?” But of course he had guessed…. With a job in Cedar Cove, she’d presumably be moving away from her brother’s house—and his control.

“He doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to leave Seattle,” she said wryly. “According to him, family should stick together.”

“I believe that, too,” Mack told her, “but it doesn’t mean everyone has to live in the same house.”