92 Pacific Boulevard

“Great. We’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

“Sure,” he said again.

The two women left, and Troy and Faith walked slowly out of the theater.

“Did you speak to Megan?” he asked.

“On my cell.” Faith nodded. “Just briefly.”

“Did she say anything?” He hoped his daughter was sensitive enough to keep her mouth shut about his proposal.

Faith laughed. “All she said was that I should be gentle with you, whatever that means.”

Troy frowned; they were halfway across the parking lot and he could feel sweat beading his upper lip. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say in front of the mirror at least a dozen times. Megan had insisted he have a short speech ready. Now, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember a single word.

As they reached the car, Troy licked his dry lips. “I think you know how much I love you,” he mumbled as he opened the passenger door.

“I thought perhaps you did,” she said.

Stepping back, Troy helped Faith inside and hurried to the driver’s side. With his hands against the steering wheel, he said, “I was thinking, hoping, really—”

“Hoping?”

“Yes, you know, that you and I might…might get together.”

“For dinner?”

“Not for dinner,” he snapped. “For life.”

His words were followed by a strained silence and then she asked, “Troy, are you asking me to marry you?”

“What else do you think this is about?”

“Well, there’s no need to get huffy.”

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he exhaled loudly. “Okay, I apologize.”

“For proposing?”

“No, for blowing this.” Troy doubted he could’ve made a bigger mess of it had he tried.

“Would you like my answer?” Faith asked him.

“No.”

“No?”

“I didn’t mean, no, I don’t want your answer. I meant, no, I want to try again and do this right.”

“Okay, then, I’ll keep quiet and wait.” Faith settled back in her seat.

Troy had no idea how to start over, let alone do this a little more elegantly. Then he grinned. “Do you remember the night we were at our old necking spot and one of my deputies caught us?”

“Oh, Troy, I was so embarrassed.” She covered her face with both hands.

“You?” he muttered. “I was the one who had to look him in the eye the next morning and pretend nothing had happened.”

The memory lightened his mood, which helped ease the tension from between his shoulder blades.

“I do love you, Troy,” Faith whispered. She curved her fingers around his hand. “I loved you when we were teenagers and I love you now.”

“I love you, too.” His voice throbbed with the depth of his emotions. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to retire with you and travel with you and make our home here in Cedar Cove.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“Will you marry me, Faith Beckwith?”

She smiled tearfully. “I would like nothing better, Troy Davis.”

Troy had the urge to roll down his window and shout at the top of his lungs. He didn’t, in spite of his desire to let the whole world know that Faith had agreed to marry him.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” she asked.

“I would like nothing better,” he said, echoing her response to his proposal.

They reached over the console, arms around each other. The kiss engulfed them both, fired by all the yearning of those long months apart. Those months of sorrow and misunderstanding….

“You know,” Faith whispered, her head on his shoulder, “I’m almost grateful for that break-in.”

“Me, too,” Troy admitted and kissed the top of her head.

They kissed again, then Faith said, “We should go.”

Troy started the engine. “I should phone Megan,” he said.

“I need to tell Scott and Jay Lynn,” she added. “Oh.” She flattened her palm against her chest. “When do we want to do this?”

Troy hadn’t given the matter a thought. The hurdle had been convincing Faith to accept his proposal; anything beyond that was unimportant. “Next week?”

“Troy, be reasonable! I was thinking June, maybe July.”

“In that case, I’d say June.” The sooner, the better.

“Where will we live?”

“Well, together, of course.”

“Yes, but where?”

“92 Pacific Avenue.”

“Okay,” Faith said, looking thoughtful. “For now.”

Troy nodded. He wasn’t sure what for now meant—probably that eventually they’d find a new house with no history except what they created themselves, the two of them.

“Oh, my goodness, we have to tell Olivia and Grace. They’re at the Pancake Palace, waiting for us.”

Troy checked his rearview mirror and backed out of the parking space, giddy with excitement and relief. When they walked into the Palace, Troy saw that Jack and Cliff had joined the two women.

The two couples sat in the circular booth and glanced expectantly at Troy and Faith.

“Well?” Jack asked when no one spoke. “Am I going to have an announcement to make in Monday’s edition?”

Troy placed his arm around Faith’s waist. She leaned toward him. “I believe you will.”

Grace and Olivia squealed with delight and clapped their hands.

“This is wonderful news,” Grace said, beaming at them. “Just wonderful.”

“What’s all the racket out here?” Goldie asked, coming toward them with a coffeepot in hand. “Much more of this, and I’ll have to call the authorities.”

They all laughed. “The authorities, in the form of our esteemed sheriff, are already here,” Jack told her.

“Troy and Faith are engaged,” Olivia announced, gesturing toward them.

Goldie shook her head. “Long overdue, if you ask me.”

“Me, too,” Troy whispered in Faith’s ear.

Their friends squeezed closer together, and Faith and Troy slid into the booth. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, throwing questions at Faith, who did her best to address them all.

A few minutes later, Goldie delivered a tray filled with slices of coconut cream pie. “Seeing this is a celebration, it’s on the house.”

“That’s so sweet,” Faith said.

“Yeah, but we don’t know what she’s charging for the coffee,” Cliff joked.

“For you, it’s double,” Goldie said, pointing a finger in his direction.

They chatted excitedly as they indulged in pie and coffee.

“Say,” Jack said, licking the back of his fork. “Did any of you hear about the old letters found in that duplex on Evergreen Place?”

Everyone shrugged. “How’d you hear about it?” Grace asked.

“Mack McAfee was in this morning, wanting to read old issues of the Chronicle—from the 1940s. When I asked him why, he told me there was a box of letters hidden in one of the closets.”

“Did you learn anything relevant from the papers?”

“Not really. He had me read a couple of the letters, though. Interesting stuff,” Jack said.

“Evergreen Place?” Olivia repeated. “If anyone will remember, it’ll be my mother.”

Troy enthusiastically seconded that.

“I’ll suggest Mack speak to Charlotte, then,” Jack said.

With his free hand Troy reached for Faith’s. It felt good to sit here with friends, people he’d known all his life, and—especially—to share this moment with the woman he loved. The woman who would soon be his wife.