Maybe she was having some sort of emotional breakdown. Maybe the tornado and her extreme fear had pushed her over the edge of sanity. How else could she explain what had come over her? She'd never reacted like this to anyone before. Here she was, divulging her private life to a complete stranger.

"Will you be okay if I leave you here for a minute?" Pete asked.

She nodded. "Sure. I'll be fine." But that wasn't true, and when he half stood and started to leave the culvert, she got to her feet and followed him. Walking low to the ground, they cleared the culvert.

As soon as they reached the road, Linnette gasped. It looked as if someone had burned a trail through the land, displacing the earth and everything around it. Then she realized her car was nowhere to be seen.

"My car!" she cried in shock. Had she stayed with it as she'd originally intended, she would've been hurled into the air....

"You saved my life," she said. "You saved my life! If you hadn't come along when you did, I'd be dead now."

"Another two minutes and we both would've been goners."

Pete's truck was tipped on its side about two hundred feet down the road.

"What do we do now?" she asked helplessly.

"Either we walk back to town or we wait for someone to drive by," Pete told her. "I say we wait."

"Okay." She really didn't know what else she could do, anyway. And he was the one who was familiar with these roads, this land.

They sat down on a patch of flattened gra.s.s. Now that the adrenaline had subsided, she felt weak, exhausted. Looking at her rescuer, Linnette saw that Pete was well over six feet. Tall enough so she had to tilt her head back. He was lean, too. He'd been wearing a cowboy hat when she first saw him, but that had long since blown away.

He wasn't what you'd typically describe as handsome. Yet there was something compelling about his appearance, especially his brilliant blue eyes.

His cheekbones were strongly defined, and his nose looked as if it'd been broken once. The dimple in his chin drew her attention, too. All in all, she had to admit she found him attractive.

At least an hour pa.s.sed before someone drove through. As they sat there, chatting in a desultory manner, she began to feel more and more uncomfortable in Pete's company. Fortunately, he didn't remind her of the way she'd blurted out all the embarra.s.sing elements of her life-like the fact that Cal had dumped her after falling in love with Vicki. Still, it hung between them.

The rancher who drove them into town dropped Linnette off at 3 of a Kind. By then she had trouble even meeting Pete's eyes. Most humiliating was her realization that, while she couldn't stop babbling, Pete hadn't shared a single detail of his own life. The sum total she'd learned was that he lived on his family's ranch. For all she knew, he could be married with a houseful of children. Not that she was looking for a romance. She was running away from one and had no plans to involve herself in another.

"Thank you again," she said over her shoulder. She waved at the rancher and at Pete, who'd lowered the pa.s.senger window of the pickup.

"Like I told you, Dennis Urlacher can tow your car back to town," he called out to her. "He'll give you a fair estimate on repairs, too."

"Yes, thanks, I appreciate that." Red-faced, she hurried into the restaurant. At this point, her car was the least of her concerns. They might never even find it. The d.a.m.n thing could be in the next county by now or at the bottom of some lake. Linnette was just grateful she wasn't inside it.

"You okay?" Buffalo Bob asked from the tavern side of the restaurant. "Merrily was worried when she remembered you were driving to the McKenna place today. We heard there was a tornado warning out there. You see anything?"

Rather than launch into a long explanation, Linnette simply nodded. Doing her best to look composed, she walked past the men sitting at the bar and made her way to the stairs that led to the second floor. Dashing up the steps, she ran down the long hallway to the very rear of the building, where her room was situated.

She threw herself on the bed, breathing hard, torn between relief at surviving and humiliation at her own disclosures.

Thirty years from now, her experience in the tornado would be a wonderful story to relate to her grandchildren-if she had any. Naturally, Linnette would embellish it a bit, add some humor. At the moment, however, she could see nothing amusing in the circ.u.mstances. Nothing whatsoever.

A few days went by, and the traumatic events of that morning were relegated to the back of her mind. She refused to linger on them. Every time she thought about the tornado and everything that followed, her face heated up as if she had a bad case of sunburn.

Her parents had phoned, of course, after seeing images of the destruction on the TV news, and so had Maddy. She'd briefly described what had happened-without mentioning Pete. Everyone praised her clearheadedness and quick action, which made her cringe with guilt. Fortunately, she hadn't seen Pete since that fateful day.

Then on Sunday afternoon, while she was waiting tables by herself, he sauntered into 3 of a Kind. He saw her and inclined his head in recognition. Choosing a corner table, he pulled out a chair and placed his Stetson-obviously a new one-on the empty seat beside him.

With no other alternative, Linnette brought him a menu and a gla.s.s of ice water.

"Good to see you again," Pete said, smiling up at her.

Not trusting herself to speak, Linnette bit her tongue and nodded.

"What did you find out about your car?" he asked as he opened his menu.

"It's a write-off," she told him. There was major structural damage. One side was crushed when the car landed against a tree a few fields from where she'd stopped. Most of the gla.s.s was shattered and the damage to the frame was extensive. Although Linnette complained every month when she wrote out a hefty car insurance payment, she was grateful for it now. According to the adjuster, she had the go-ahead to order a new car.

"I'm glad," Pete said, glancing away from his menu. He chose the meat loaf and mashed potato special.

"What about...your truck?" It seemed only polite to ask.

He shrugged. "A few dents. I figure they add character."

She liked his att.i.tude.

"Just like a broken heart adds character to a person..."

Glaring at him, Linnette jerked the menu out of his hands and stomped off to place his order. How dare he say that to her! Pete might have saved her life, but that didn't give him permission to embarra.s.s her.

She'd never talk to him again, Linnette decided. Ever.

Twenty-Five.

Jack had three steaks ready for the grill when Olivia got home from the courthouse Thursday afternoon. They rarely ate red meat anymore; however, they'd invited Will to dinner, and she knew her brother's favorite was T-bone steak. Besides, she had a few questions for Will and she wanted him in a good mood when she asked them.

No doubt Jack was pleased with the menu. Olivia kept a careful eye on her husband's diet. After his heart attack, Jack had promised to abstain from fast food and late hours. He left the newspaper office as close to five as he could these days and often got home before she did, which was a real switch from the way things used to be.

"Hi, Jack," she greeted him, setting her purse on a small table in the hallway alcove, just as she did every night.

"Out here," Jack called. He had a Reba CD playing and the volume was loud enough to rattle the windows. She was surprised he'd heard her at all.

Moving into the kitchen, Olivia found her husband preparing a salad. He'd arranged pale green Boston lettuce and baby spinach leaves in a large gla.s.s bowl, which sat on the kitchen counter, along with two ripe tomatoes and a cuc.u.mber fresh from her garden.

"Do your talents never cease?" she teased, sliding her arms around his middle. She hadn't realized how deeply she loved this man-who'd come into her life nearly twenty years after her divorce-until he'd almost died. Now she appreciated every day she had with him. Every minute.

"I picked up a bottle of a new spray-on salad dressing," he was saying. "There was a coupon in the Chronicle and I used it. I think we'll like this one."

He handed her the bottle of Italian dressing and she glanced at the label with an appropriately enthusiastic comment. Who would've dreamed that Jack Griffin, editor of the Cedar Cove Chronicle and renowned junk-food fanatic, would care about low-fat salad dressing? Certainly not Olivia.

"You're spoiling me," she said with a laugh.

"Well, actually, I was thinking I'd get you happy and then lure you into my den of iniquity."

"Den of iniquity? Den of books and stacks of paper is more like it." Olivia loved the banter between them. "Anyway, after all this time you should know you don't need gifts of salad dressing to get me into your arms."

Jack turned and enfolded her in his embrace, kissing the tip of her nose. "The things you say to me, woman, it's a wonder I don't seduce you right here on the kitchen floor."

"And let my brother find us?" she asked.

Jack scowled. "Oh, yeah. I forgot for a minute-Will's coming to dinner."

"Don't forget, I need to talk to him...."

"And you want me to conveniently disappear."

"If you don't mind?" She sighed unhappily. "It's just that this might get awkward."

"I'm happy to retreat to my den," he said, waggling his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion.

After a quick kiss, Olivia went into the bedroom to change while Jack finished making the salad. When she returned he'd poured two gla.s.ses of iced tea.

As they waited for Will, they sat on the front porch, which overlooked the cove. The waters were a clear blue and, for September, surprisingly calm. Sitting side by side on the glider, they sipped their tea and enjoyed the quiet of early evening.

"How was your day?" Olivia asked, grateful for these few minutes alone. Will's arrival would transform this peaceful mood into one of tension.

"I had lunch with Seth," Jack said. "Ran into him at the deli. I had vegetable soup and a multigrain bagel with low-fat cream cheese," he added righteously.

"Well, I had lunch with Justine." She smiled. Her daughter had been full of news about the sale of the waterfront land and their purchase of a commercial plot off Heron Avenue. Everything had come together so smoothly, Justine was convinced this was meant to be. She'd talked about collecting Charlotte's special recipes. Justine planned to use them in the tearoom, which had pleased Charlotte no end. In fact, during their last conversation, Olivia had learned that her mother was finally writing down all her recipes. Although friends and family had been asking for ages, Justine had given her the inspiration she needed.

"Seth told me the permits have been issued and construction on the tearoom should start in the next few weeks."

"Justine said the same thing."

They both paused to savor their tea. Olivia loved the serenity of early autumn. Summer had lingered in the Pacific Northwest, but soon the rains would come. The days would grow short and the bleakness of winter would begin to descend. At the end of the month, Jack would store the barbecue in the garage for the winter and put away the patio furniture. Hard to believe on a lovely night like this. Knowing how few such evenings remained made it even more special.

"Seth said he'd decided to keep his job with the boat broker," Jack told her.

Olivia already knew this, and felt it was a wise decision. She said as much.

"Oh?" Jack questioned. "Why's that?"

"He's doing so well, and..." She hesitated. "I don't suppose it would do any harm to tell you."

"What?"

"Justine's pregnant."

"That's great!" He paused, frowning and obviously puzzled. "Seth didn't say anything about that."

"He doesn't know yet. Justine is telling him tonight." Justine's pregnancy was wonderful news to Olivia. Not so long ago, she'd begun to lose hope of ever having grandchildren and now, like Grace, she'd have four. Her youngest son, James, who was in the navy and lived in San Diego, had two children and soon Justine would, as well.

After a few minutes, Jack kissed the side of her face. "You're very quiet all of a sudden. Any particular reason?"

Olivia finished her tea. "I was thinking about Jordan," she said. The son who'd died the summer he was thirteen. More than twenty years had pa.s.sed since his death, and hardly a day went by that she didn't think about him. Her thoughts were especially poignant at times like this, when she learned she was about to become a grandmother again. What would've happened if Jordan had stayed home from the lake that day? It was a question that still haunted her, maybe even more so now that her children were adults. What kind of person would Jordan have been? Would he have a family now? How different would her own life be? Her ex-husband, Stan's? Justine's? Even James's? They'd all been profoundly affected by Jordan's death.

"I can hardly imagine it," he murmured.

"A mother never forgets," she said simply. The pain wasn't as intense as it'd been during the first few years after Jordan's death. Still, at special moments like today's lunch with Justine, it was as if the loss had just occurred.

A car rounded the bend and she recognized it as her brother's. Jack saw the car, too. Standing, Jack and Olivia walked down the steps to greet their guest.

Will joined them. "Thanks for the dinner invite," he said, then kissed Olivia on the cheek and shook hands with Jack.

"I should be the one thanking you," Jack said. "I'm getting steak for the first time in a month of Sundays."

Olivia cast a disparaging look at her husband. "Ignore him."

While Jack got Will a gla.s.s of iced tea, Olivia led her brother onto the porch, where they sat on two of the wicker chairs that lined the wide veranda. She'd initially planned to have their conversation after dinner, but decided sooner was better. Jack brought out the tea, eyed Olivia and then excused himself, telling them he wanted to start the barbecue.

"It's nice here. Really peaceful," Will commented, relaxing in his chair. He looked out over the Cove, where a pair of herons waded in the water, seeking dinner.

"We love it."

Will nodded, then sipped his tea.

Olivia plunged into the murky waters of her brother's obsessive behavior. "Grace mentioned that you stopped by the library the other day."

Will didn't respond right away. "I thought she might've said something," he finally muttered.

Olivia wanted to get to the point. Surely Will knew why she felt the need to talk to him. "You're aware that she's married, aren't you?" she asked bluntly.

"Of course." Will sighed and shook his head. "It isn't what you think, Liv. I made a fool of myself over her the last time I was in town. I regret that. The whole situation was unfortunate."

That was putting it mildly, although Olivia chose not to say so. Her brother had tried to provoke a fistfight with Cliff Harding, which was almost a joke. Cliff outweighed Will by at least fifty pounds and was in much better physical condition. The incident had mortified Grace, and Olivia had been outraged by her brother's childish behavior.

"Exactly why are you in Cedar Cove?" she demanded. "Because if it has anything to do with Grace, I'm telling you right now, neither Mom nor I will stand for it."

Her brother seemed about to argue, then appeared to change his mind. "I know stopping by the library wasn't a good idea."

"No, it wasn't. You're my brother and I love you, but Grace has been my best friend my entire life and I will not allow you to interfere in her marriage."

"I know." Will leaned forward and exhaled slowly. "I see now that inviting her to lunch wasn't the best way to go about any of this. All I wanted to say was that I'm sorry for...well, for everything. I wish her happiness."

"You have to admit, moving to Cedar Cove looks pretty suspicious."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I thought about it quite a bit, Olivia, but I really didn't have anywhere else to go. I needed a change. G.o.d knows Georgia deserved a better husband, and it just seemed easier to start over someplace familiar. Mom's here and you're here. The two of you, plus your kids, are the only family I've got."