"I'd be shocked if there had been."

Troy saw that he was making a mess of this. "I'm not eighteen anymore, Faith. I don't know about...these things."

She looked at him with such sweet innocence, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. "Just tell me, would you?" he groaned.

"Tell you what?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Oh."

"I mean, if you'd rather I didn't, I understand. But I don't want to spend the whole evening wondering-worrying about it. So tell me now. Either way is fine."

"Fine." Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. "I think it would be perfectly nice if we kissed."

"Really?" All at once he felt lighter than air.

"Would you like to do it now?" she asked with a faint smile.

"Now?"

"I don't want you to worry about it through dinner."

He thought she might be teasing him but he didn't take offense. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to wait."

Faith grinned. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to wait, too."

Then they had a gla.s.s of wine, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always seemed to, everything from high-school reminiscences to the books they happened to be reading.

Because the dinner she'd made when he had to cancel at the last minute had gone more or less to waste, Troy insisted on taking her out. With the help of an online recommendation, he'd made reservations at an upscale waterfront restaurant. The place was small and elegant, with intimate lighting and attentive waiters. Faith raved about the seafood she had, and he had to agree that his salmon, too, was exceptionally good. Afterward they went for a walk along the beach near Alki, removing their shoes and strolling hand-in-hand. He carried his shoes, with his socks stuffed inside, and felt conscious of every sensory detail-the cool, firm sand, the brilliant colors of the setting sun, her enticing floral scent.

"I didn't know what to think when you got to my house this evening," Faith told him. "You looked so stern. I had this horrible feeling you'd gone through all that traffic just to come and tell me you didn't want to see me again."

"Hardly," Troy muttered, loving the feel of her so close. Asking permission to kiss her might not have been his smoothest move, but he was glad he'd done it. Now he could concentrate on her and on the antic.i.p.ation of that kiss.

"Might I remind you that you've already broken my heart once," she said lightly.

"You recovered."

"So did you." She paused. "Troy, we both loved our spouses, but they're gone. I'm so grateful that you and I have this second chance. Grateful and excited."

"I feel the same way. Grateful, excited and nervous." He shook his head. "The truth is I'm surprised I didn't throw up."

"You? Oh, come on, Troy, you've always been so sure of yourself."

"Yeah, right."

The wind carried the sound of her laughter and just hearing it made him want to laugh, too.

"I'm knitting a baby blanket for your daughter," Faith told him. "I hope that isn't too forward of me."

"Of course not. I'm sure Megan will be very pleased." Even as he spoke, Troy instinctively realized that the instant Megan learned the blanket had been knit by a woman he was dating, she'd be upset. Megan needed time before she'd be able to accept Faith, or anyone else for that matter, in his life. Maybe when the baby was born... He considered sharing his concern with Faith, but decided against it. He suddenly wondered how her kids felt about him.

He shook off his thoughts, and together they watched the final moments of sunset. Now. He'd kiss her now. He dropped his shoes on the sand, then gently turned her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers. Faith slid her arms around his neck.

This was the first time in more than thirty years that Troy had kissed a woman other than his wife. He found Faith's lips moist and warm and most wonderful of all, inviting.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, he saw that she was smiling up at him. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?" she murmured.

He frowned at her. "Not bad? That's it?"

"All right, lovely."

"That's a little more like it." Perhaps he should try again, he mused, and without hesitation touched his lips to hers. The same thrilling sensation stole over him. In his opinion, this was a thousand times better than not bad or lovely. It was...he searched for the right word. Incredible came to mind, but Faith had to feel it, too, before he'd risk saying that.

Her eyes were still closed when he raised his head.

"Pretty good," he said in an offhand manner.

"Pretty good?" Faith echoed. "Pretty good?" Louder this time.

"All right, it was nice."

"Nice?" She sounded outraged.

"How about incredible?" he suggested.

Her face softened. "That's what I was thinking."

"Me, too." They scooped up their shoes, then he reached for her hand and they headed back to the parking lot. The streetlights had come on, and the usual Friday-night revelers had begun to crowd the beach.

Troy drove Faith home. Just as he had when they were in high school, he walked her to the front door.

"I had a perfect evening," she whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

"I did, too," Troy said. "How about a movie next?" he asked.

"When?"

"Monday?" He had the day off and wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"Sure," Faith answered. "Monday's good."

"The way Sandy and I used to do it, she'd choose a movie, generally one I wouldn't have picked myself, and then the next time around, it'd be my turn."

"That seems fair," Faith agreed. "So who'll choose the movie this time, you or me?"

"You."

"That's chivalrous of you, but since it was your idea, you should go first."

"We can compromise. I'll check the paper and get back to you with some ideas."

"Okay."

They still hadn't decided whether to meet in Seattle or Cedar Cove, but that gave Troy a legitimate excuse to call her later. Not that he really needed an excuse...

They kissed good-night, a brief, comfortable kiss, and Troy left. As he made his way down side streets to the freeway on-ramp, he couldn't stop smiling.

The freeway traffic remained heavy, thanks no doubt to the holiday weekend. Driving back to Cedar Cove took nearly ninety minutes. As soon as he walked into the dark, silent house, he noticed the flashing red light on his phone. He checked the caller ID function; all four calls had come from his daughter. No surprise there.

It was close to eleven, too late to return Megan's call. He'd phone her in the morning, when his head would be clearer and he'd be better prepared to answer her questions. He'd tell her enough to satisfy her curiosity for the moment, but he wouldn't lie.

As he started toward his bedroom, the phone rang again. Apparently Megan wasn't going to let this rest.

"Yes, Megan," he said, recognizing the number. Who else would be calling him this late at night? Well, except for work, of course.

"It's Craig," his son-in-law said in a flat tone. "I just got back from the hospital." He hesitated and Troy could hear him taking a deep breath. "Megan lost the baby."

Troy felt as if he'd had a fist slammed into his belly. The first word out of his mouth was "No."

"I'm sorry.... We tried to reach you. Apparently you had your cell turned off."

Troy hadn't bothered to check. "I was...out."

"Megan's taking the miscarriage pretty hard."

Troy felt the sudden need to sit down. "What went wrong?" he asked, shocked by the news.

Sandy had lost two pregnancies after Megan, and both times the experience had been devastating. He couldn't stand that this had happened to his daughter, too.

"The doctor couldn't say for sure. Sometimes they can't tell."

"Is she still at the hospital?" Troy asked.

"No, she's here."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Of course."

Troy heard his daughter's tears even before she started to speak. "Daddy, where were you? We tried and tried to call, and we couldn't get hold of you." Megan was sobbing in earnest now. "I needed you, Daddy, I really needed you and you weren't there."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"I wanted this baby so much. This baby was Mom's gift to me and now...now there isn't a baby."

Troy didn't know how to comfort her, any more than he'd known how to help Sandy when she'd miscarried. While he'd been out with Faith, sipping expensive wine in a fancy restaurant, walking on the beach, kissing her, his daughter had been at the hospital losing her baby. His grandchild.

Nineteen.

"Bobby wants me to cut my hours," Teri complained to Rachel as they walked along the Cedar Cove waterfront. They were on their lunch break and both felt the need to get out of the salon, into the crisp, fresh air and lovely September sunshine. Before long, the October rains would come and warm, bright days such as this would be rare.

"Is that what you want?" Rachel asked, tossing the leftover crust from her sandwich to the seagulls.

Teri didn't reply, and Rachel glanced up from feeding the gulls.

"Do you want to work part-time?" Rachel repeated.

"I don't know what I want anymore," Teri confessed. "I love my job, but I love Bobby, too, and he needs me more than Mrs. Johnson needs a spiral perm or Janice Hutt a color job."

"Then you have your answer," Rachel said, as if the decision should be an easy one.

"I don't think it's quite that simple." Feeling queasy, Teri sat on a bench that overlooked the cove. Baskets of blooming annuals in an array of pinks and reds hung from the lightposts along the walkway. "Bobby is so intense and, well..." She hated to say it, but she needed a break from her husband every now and then. A few hours apart from each other did them both good. Working at the salon was the perfect arrangement.

Rachel sat down beside her, and instantly a flock of seagulls gathered at their feet. She tossed the last of the bread onto the lawn, then shooed the birds away.

"This whole thing's giving me an upset stomach," Teri murmured. In fact, she felt like throwing up.

"You're pale," Rachel said, eyeing her closely.

"Darn him." She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her. "Since the hair show, Bobby's been worse than ever."

"Worse?"

"He hardly lets me out of his sight." Teri knew without looking that James was somewhere in the vicinity. He'd been a.s.signed to watch over her whenever she was away from home. To his credit, James tried to be as un.o.btrusive as possible. But Teri couldn't help knowing he was there, especially when he hung around the mall, peering into the salon every ten or fifteen minutes. The other girls were used to it now and tended to ignore him.

"Get Nailed is more than my job," Teri continued. "It's a big part of my social life, too. You're there and I'd miss seeing you every day."

"Yes, but..." Rachel paused. "I'm actually thinking maybe Nate and I..." She let the rest fade.

"You really think you might marry Nate?" Teri liked the other man well enough and she knew Rachel was completely enthralled with him. But as she'd told Bobby, she was unsure this was right for her friend. Apparently she wasn't the only one with doubts; Rachel seemed to have reservations herself, otherwise she would've moved to San Diego when Nate was transferred.

"I'm still trying to decide," Rachel said miserably. "Nate and I talk about it every time we're on the phone. He's coming to see me and I know he'll want an answer."

"So the pressure will really be on."

"Exactly."

"If you love him, why the doubt?"