Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(42)

"What?" Cliff was sure he'd misunderstood.

"It's true. As I said, someone's offered a substantial donation to the shelter if you'll be one of our bachelors."

Cliff was both amused and chagrinned. "Who?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."

It could only be Grace, Cliff reasoned, but she didn't have the money to make that kind of offer. "Male or female?" he pressed.

Janet Webb laughed nervously. "As 1 said, I'm not at liberty to reveal the source, Mr. Harding."

"How substantial a donation?"

"Nor am I at liberty to reveal the amount."

He chuckled, completely perplexed by the situation.

"Mr. Harding, I sincerely hope you'll have a change of heart."

Cliff thought about it and sighed. "I suppose I can volunteer." He wasn't happy about it, nor did he appreciate being coerced, but he didn't want to take money away from the shelter. In any case, there was no help for it now; he'd given his word.

After a while, he wandered outside to talk to Cal. "I don't suppose you know anything about that phone call?"

The trainer shook his head.

"Someone offered a donation to the shelter if I agreed to be part of the auction."

Cal's eyes widened. "Y-you g-gonna d-do it?"

Cliff nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "Hey—you didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Cal shook his head again. "G-grace?"

Grace's involvement had been his first assumption, too, but it didn't make sense, and not just because of the money. Cliff had recently seen her at the Saturday Farmers' Market, talking to Stan Lockhart, Olivia's ex-husband. The instant she'd seen him she looked guilty. Cliff suspected she'd started dating the other man. The idea of her with Stan bothered him, but Cliff had to put the matter out of his mind. If Grace wanted to see her best friend's ex-husband—well, it wasn't any of his business.

Still, he didn't know how he could have misjudged Grace this badly. She wasn't the woman he'd first believed, not nearly the honest, straightforward person he'd thought, and the realization troubled and saddened him.

He glanced up to find Cal struggling to hide a grin. "Wipe that off your face," he growled.

Cal laughed outright.

"This isn't funny."

Cal laughed again.

Soon Cliff was chuckling, too. He couldn't imagine who'd pay for him to be one of the bachelors, but it might be interesting to find out.

Twenty-One

Jon walked Maryellen and Katie out to the car and buckled their daughter into her protective carrier in the back seat. Maryellen found it harder and harder to head off to work each morning when she longed to spend the day with her husband and child. Jon and Maryellen had agreed she'd quit her job by the end of the year, sooner if they could manage it financially. Maryellen was hoping to get pregnant again, too. She wanted no more than two or three years between Katie and this new baby.

She opened the driver's side door and Jon came over to take her in his arms. "I hate seeing you and Katie leave me every morning," he murmured, echoing her own regrets.

Maryellen slipped her arms around her husband, resting her head on his chest. "I hate leaving you, too."

"It won't be much longer," he promised.

Maryellen nodded. They kissed goodbye and then she climbed into the car and drove into Cedar Cove. Kelly, her younger sister, provided day care for Katie and had done so since Maryellen's return to work the year before. The arrangement worked well for both of them. The extra income helped her sister, and Maryellen felt relieved that her daughter was with family. Kelly's son, Tyler, was wonderful with his cousin and looked after Katie as if she were his little sister. Kelly and her husband, Paul, wanted a second child; although she'd only mentioned it to Maryellen once, Kelly seemed to be having trouble getting pregnant again. Maryellen sympathized but didn't feel she could discuss the subject unless Kelly brought it up first.

There was no time to think about her family once she arrived at the HarborStreetArtGallery. Summers were their busy season, with plenty of tourist activity and consequently lots of drop-in traffic. Maryellen preferred it that way.

A couple of years earlier she'd broken off her relationship with Jon in an effort to hide the fact that she was pregnant with his child. In order to avoid seeing her—at least before he knew about the pregnancy—he'd moved his work from the local gallery to a well-known Seattle one. His career had grown ever since. His work was back in the Harbor Street

gallery now, but it sold out almost as quickly as he could bring it in.

Maryellen knew that Jon had outgrown their gallery, although he was willing to provide a few pieces because of Maryellen and out of loyalty to the owners, who'd given him his start. The demands on his time and talent kept him increasingly busy. Maryellen was looking forward to managing his career and getting his work displayed in galleries all across North America. She had plenty of ideas, including reproductions in both poster-size and as cards.

At noon, Jon called and they chatted briefly. They couldn't be apart for more than a few hours without missing each other and craving contact, even if that was only five minutes on the phone.

"I'm working in my darkroom this afternoon," he told her.