Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(45)

"To see my father, you mean?" she asked, glancing up.

Roy nodded encouragingly. "To the best of your knowledge, do you remember ever seeing him with your father?"

She hesitated. "Yes, now that you mention it, he did come to see my dad once."

Roy frowned as he scanned his notes. "I see I asked this question earlier and you claimed you'd never met Colonel Samuels."

"I didn't personally meet him," Hannah rushed to explain. "But I did see him with my father."

"When was that?"

She narrowed her eyes. "It must've been shortly before Dad left for Cedar Cove—yes, it was only a few days beforehand."

"Was your father agitated?"

"Not really. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Roy said lightly.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked and he had the feeling she was eager for the questioning to be over.

"Not right now. I need to sort out a few things first. Will I be able to reach you here?"

"I should be around for a while. The Beldons said I could live with them for the time being. I... I probably shouldn't, but they make it so easy." She lowered her eyes again. "They really are wonderful people."

Roy agreed with her there. "Thank you for your time, Hannah."

"You're welcome."

Roy stood, ready to go, when he saw that Bob's car was turning into the driveway. Walking out of the kitchen, Roy waited until he'd parked in the garage. Bob had opened the trunk, removed his golf clubs and put them away before he noticed Roy.

"Good to see you, Roy," he said as he emerged from the garage. "Actually I'm glad you're here. I need to ask a favor."

"Ask away."

"I mentioned that my car's being worked on next week, didn't I?"

Roy nodded.

"Peggy's got a meeting with her garden club Tuesday night. Is there any chance I can take you up on your offer and borrow your car while mine's in the shop? I'll have it back first thing in the morning."

"No problem." Because Corrie and Roy worked together, her car sat at home most days.

"I appreciate it."

"I can drop it off Monday evening, if you'd like."

"Perfect," Bob said happily. "Why don't you and Corrie come for dinner that night?"

"Sounds good, but I'd better check with the boss." Corrie was the one who kept their social calendar and there'd be hell to pay if he agreed to dinner without clearing it with her beforehand.

"You do that, and get back to me."

Roy left for his office a few minutes later. He collected the mail on his way in and dumped it on his desk.

Corrie generally dealt with the mail before he saw it, but she was gone for the afternoon. It was a lazy day following the Fourth of July weekend, and they weren't completely back on schedule yet.

As he sorted through the bills, flyers and letters, Roy placed the bills in one basket and the personal stuff on Corrie's desk. A postcard caught his attention. It was a plain white one, the kind available at the post office for the price of the stamp.

He turned it over and read the message twice. EVERYONE HAS REGRETS. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU'VE DONE YOU WISH YOU COULD DO OVER? THINK ABOUT IT. There was no signature.

Roy set the card on his desk, staring at it for a long moment. Living the life he had, there were always regrets and misgivings. If someone was asking for a list, he wouldn't know where to start.

Twenty-Three

Ian Randall was in no hurry to get home. For six months at sea, he'd counted every second he was away from Cecilia. He'd crossed off each day on the calendar until they could be together again, eagerly anticipating their reunion. Being apart from her was agony. But now that he was home, he could hardly stand to be around her because it was an even deeper agony to have her there and not make love to her.

As he neared the highway exit that would take him home, Ian slowed the vehicle to a near-crawl. He dreaded what would happen once he walked into the duplex. The tension between them had begun the instant she announced she wanted another baby, and it seemed to increase day by day.

Cecilia tried to pretend everything was as it should be, tried to ignore his bad mood. Every night it was the same: she arrived home from work and immediately set about preparing dinner. While he buried his face in the newspaper, she talked about her day in the office. She was employed by a large accounting firm in Cedar Cove and liked her job, as much as Ian liked his. Above all, they did love each other; there was no question of that. They should be happy.

Nights were the worst. He made excuses not to go to bed at the same time as his wife. He saw the hurt in her eyes, but not once did she confront him.

If Cecilia had brought the situation out into the open, it might have helped. She wanted a baby and the fact was, he didn't. Cecilia had let him know that if they were going to use birth control, it was up to him. After that one disastrous night when she'd seduced him, he decided making love to Cecilia was just too dangerous.

She made him forget. As soon as she was in his arms, he lost all thought except his need for her. The risk of getting her pregnant was just too high.

There'd been a few nights when he'd given in—and been furious with himself afterward. He'd crawled into bed, assuming she was asleep. She wasn't, and he'd surrendered every time without even token resistance. Before he knew how he'd allowed it to happen, they'd made love, and on at least two of those occasions, it was without protection.... He tried to sleep on the sofa, but Cecilia wouldn't let him, insisting she'd sleep there with him.