Butterfly Cove Page 23
“Remorse? Or did you change your mind about me?” Rafe had wanted her to be reasonable, but it would be unbearable if she cut him adrift now.
“No, you idiot. The mother of all hangovers. And I think...it’s getting worse.”
He leaned down, scooping her out of bed. “I’ll get you into the bathroom. Then I’ll go down and fix you a special tomato juice drink. It always did the trick for me in the service.”
“Did you get drunk a lot?”
“Honey, you don’t want to know.”
She took a deep breath. When he looked down, her eyes were bleary, but filled with certainty. “I love you, Rafe Russo. I’ve loved you for most of my life. Don’t you ever forget that. And if you ever walk out on me again, I’ll murder you. I’ll do it with my drafting pen. Understand?”
Rafe raised one eyebrow. “Drafting pen?”
“Damn right.”
“You have my promise, honey.” He felt absolutely clear about his future and hers. She belonged right here in his arms. “I may be reckless, but I’m not crazy. I’ve loved you for most of my life, too, Olivia Sullivan.”
“Good.” Olivia’s eyes closed. “Now how about that tomato juice thing you promised me...”
EPILOGUE
Summer Island
Late afternoon
THEY CAME FROM six states, not just Portland. They came in limousines and taxicabs and on motorcycles. Somebody even drove a golf cart.
By the time the sun was heading down on the day of its grand opening, the Harbor House was filled with people and a traffic jam snarled the coast highway.
Some people said it was making the town into a noisy, chaotic mess. Most of the others said it was a jolt of life and a godsend to the local economy.
Rafe Russo, the new acting sheriff during Tom Wilkinson’s medical leave, said that the town council needed to widen the coast road fast because his deputies were already too busy to direct traffic all day when cars were stuck in line for the new café and the popular little yarn shop.
The town council, after some intense debate behind closed doors, agreed.
* * *
“HAS ANYONE SEEN LIVIE?”
“Over there. She’s talking with her real estate agent, I think.” Jilly pointed over her shoulder vaguely. “I think she’s finally got an offer on the house. Walker, honey, we’re almost out of iced coffee over here.”
“Coming right up.”
Jilly blew him a quick kiss as she reached around him. “By the way—did you get that cash register to work?”
“All fixed.” Walker caught her waist and turned her around. “Take a break for ten minutes. Grace is handling the cash sales now. Caro’s grandmother will take over in here.”
“But—”
“No arguing. We agreed.”
Jilly blew out a breath. “Right. This is totally...wild, isn’t it?”
Walker leaned down and calmly whispered, "I told you so.”
* * *
OUTSIDE ON THE back porch Olivia and the real estate agent weren’t talking about how to get the best price for her house. An offer had already been given and accepted. The house would be sold in a month.
Olivia felt nothing but relief to know it was done.
But the real estate agent, Andi Moore, had pulled Olivia around to a quiet part of the yard near the side fence. “I can’t take this any longer. I need to tell you the truth. My son was the one up in your attic. I sent him in there after I turned off your electricity. He—he was supposed to find something in your attic. It was a key.”
Olivia blinked at her. “You did that?”
“There’s no good way to say this, so I’ll just jump in. Your father and I—we were involved, Olivia. For the last nine years of his life. We met in Los Angeles or Chicago or New York. He was very private that way. He wanted to spare me any gossip. I loved him...deeply. But he was a difficult man. He had trouble showing emotions. And I think...there were many things he did not want to share with me. But that was fine. The time we had together meant so much.”
Olivia swallowed. “You were...lovers?”
“And we were very, very good friends.” Andi laughed. “We were old, but we weren’t ancient. You don’t have to look that surprised.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just...a shock. He never mentioned you to me.”
“He valued appearances. Maybe too much. But your father worked very hard to become a success, Olivia. He liked order. Control. Did you know that he was adopted? In and out of foster homes. He was sent back after he’d been adopted twice. He never said much, but I think those experiences made him very hard inside.”
Olivia sat down in the sunlight, her iced tea totally forgotten. “Adopted? He never told me that, but he didn’t tell me much anyway.”
“I don’t think anyone knew. He was proud of his image and his success. He wanted people to think of him that way, not as someone who’d been abandoned as a baby.”
“I can understand that. He would never want pity.”
“I know he was hard to understand. He could be very distant...even sometimes cruel. But I loved him and I believe he loved me. So at the end, when he was getting more and more confused, I told him he should go to you and ask you for help. He refused. We argued, but he always refused.” She looked away. “Then he asked me to do something for him and I agreed. He said there was a key in the attic. He said you should have it. There was something he had forgotten and that you should know about it.”
Olivia couldn’t seem to move. “In my attic?”
The agent pressed an envelope into Olivia’s hands. “He couldn’t write by that point. It was about a month before he died. So he told me what to write and I wrote it down for him. It’s all in here. I should’ve told you sooner, but...I wasn’t sure how. And coming from a complete stranger, I thought...well, I didn’t know what you would think.”
She stood up stiffly. “About the house, I got you the best possible price. I’m not accepting a fee either. I refuse. That’s for your father. And it’s an apology for the way I bungled this whole thing.”
Olivia saw that the woman was trying hard not to cry. She reached out and squeezed her hand. “I only wish I’d known. I’m sorry he never told me. He had so many secrets.”
“He was proud of you. He told me that when you wrote him from Italy. He kept some of the photos you sent him. I know he didn’t show it, but he was proud in his way. I hope you will believe that.”
Olivia took a slow breath. She began to believe. It didn’t change everything. But it helped her accept who he was.
“Thank you. It matters, believe me. Why don’t you come inside?” Olivia said on impulse. “Jilly has her barbecue almost done...”
“No, no, I’m going. You’re much too busy here and my son has a gymnastics competition down at the high school in an hour. But...stay in touch, will you?”
Olivia nodded. “I’ll be right here on the island. Rafe and I will be looking for a house soon. Nothing huge. Maybe up on the hill, next to Caro.”
“In that case I’ll keep an eye out for a property for you. I think...yes, I may have something in mind already.” Andi squeezed Olivia’s hand and stood up. “Thank you for not being angry—and for understanding a little.”
Feeling bewildered, Olivia looked up as Rafe walked down the steps.
“Livie, somebody wants to buy all that cashmere yarn. Jilly said you would know where it was.” He hesitated, looking at her closely. “Is everything okay?”
* * *
“FINE. PERFECT, ACTUALLY. I’ll go get the yarn right now. Somebody wants to buy all fifteen balls of it?”
“That’s what I hear.” Rafe watched the real estate agent walk away. “Was there a change in the offer for the house? Don’t tell me the deal fell through already.”
“Not at all. In fact, Andi thinks she may have a house for us up on the hill near Caro. There’s more, too.” Olivia slid the envelope into the pocket of her hand-knit sweater and smiled slowly. “It can wait a littl
e. I’ll—I’ll tell you later.”
“It’s good news?”
“Yes. I think it will be.” Olivia stood up and slid an arm around his waist. “Let’s finish up inside. We should be closing in forty-five minutes. We’ll help with the cleanup, and then I’ll meet you down at the cove.” She kissed him with slow, teasing bites that made Rafe’s eyes darken.
“I’d rather go now,” he muttered. “This is a zoo.”
“The price of success, Sheriff Russo.”
“Acting sheriff,” Rafe corrected.
“Maybe.” Olivia smiled broadly and walked toward the house. “You bring the champagne and I’ll bring the blanket, Sheriff.”
* * *
IT WAS OVER an hour later before they could get away. Olivia was tired, but she was singing inside, pumped with the success of their grand opening. She knew there would be months of hard work and uncertainty before the business was secure, but the beginning was better than she could have dreamed.
Down at Butterfly Cove, Rafe was already waiting, one hand on the ladder to the tree house at the top of the high dunes. Olivia saw something shine in the branches, where a dozen Mason jars had been strung up as lanterns. Rafe climbed up the ladder to light the first one when he saw her.
Her heart seemed too full for the love that swept through her as she felt a circle of dreams slide into place around them.
He had come home after too many years of shadows.
So had she.
Something darted over her shoulder as she crossed the dunes toward the beach. A second orange blur followed.
Olivia looked up in surprise as bright wings fluttered around her head, fine but supple, with a strength to fight Pacific gales.
The monarchs had come back to the cove, stopping for red clover and goldenrod and milkweed to fuel their long journey to the fog-swept groves of Northern California.
The air seemed to flash with wings, golden and orange around her. One circle was complete, Olivia thought in awe as the small, hardy travelers looped in graceful spirals around her, full of magic.
And now another circle was about to begin....
* * * * *
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for joining Olivia and Rafe on their twisting journey through sadness and loss—back to home, friends and love. With the Harbor House open at last, all the Summer Island friends are going to be busy!
So is the new acting sheriff. Old secrets never stay hidden, and Rafe has vowed to keep the island and those he loves safe.
I hope that Summer Island’s magic continues to touch you as it has touched me. In its fog-swept coves and quiet streets friendship runs deep, and the love of good yarn runs even deeper. Olivia will be creating new patterns for the Island Yarns shop, and you can find all the details at my website— www.christinaskye.com.
If you were intrigued by Rafe’s guacamole recipe, check out the Southwest recipes on my website. I have a secret twist on Rafe’s version. Yum! Don’t tell Jilly.
You can find all the techniques and how to make the special ingredients at christinaskye.com. While you’re there, check out my favorite chai tea recipes, too. I haven’t forgotten knitting—or crochet goodies either.
As summer sunlight fades into winter storms, the Harbor House will shelter old friends and new strangers, drawn to its bright windows. Four strong women will fight to protect what they love most. And their remarkable men will be right beside them. Their stories will continue....
I’ll be watching for you down at the cove.
With warmest wishes,
Christina
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ISBN: 9781460319598
BUTTERFLY COVE
Copyright © 2013 by Roberta Helmer
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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