Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(92)

“You use the stuff in jars. I make it fresh.”

“See what I mean?”

“Okay,” Zach conceded, “I make better spaghetti than you do, but no one bakes an orange cake as good as yours.”

She gave him a hopeless look. “The recipe’s from a boxed cake mix.”

“Do you think anyone cares so long as it tastes good?”

He smiled at her again and this time Rosie smiled shyly back.

Allison and Eddie marched into the room.

“Feel better, Mom?” Her teenage daughter was far too pleased with herself.

Rosie nodded. “Much better, thank you both.” She glanced over at Zach. “Thank you, too.”

Her ex-husband stood up, obviously ready to leave.

“Dad,” Eddie said in a stage whisper. “Ask her.”

“Ask her what?” Zach whispered back.

“On a date.”

“What?” Rosie stared at her son.

“I think Dad should ask you on a date,” Eddie explained.

Zach frowned, not meeting Rosie’s eyes. “Your mother’s going out with that widower now.”

Allison shook her head. “No, she isn’t.”

“You aren’t?” Zach turned to Rosie.

“No. We only went out once and it was…not a success. Neither of us is ready for another relationship.”

“Well, then.” Zach smiled. “Are you game for dinner?”

“Dad!” Allison groaned. “You’ve got to be more romantic than that. Ask Mom again and this time do it right.”

With a mock-serious expression, Zach bowed. “Rosie, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me on Thursday evening?”

“She can’t,” Eddie answered. “That’s Scouting night.”

“Right,” Zach muttered.

“Take Mom out tonight,” Allison urged. “I’ll cook dinner for me and Eddie. You two talk. Okay?”

Rosie looked at Zach and he looked at her. A slow grin came over his face as he extended his hand. With barely a pause, she placed her own hand in his.

Twenty-Four

Grace sat with her morning cup of coffee. It was early Saturday, and the kitchen light caused shadows to flicker across the wall, heightening the impression of a dark and gloomy day. More than three weeks had gone by since she’d taken Buttercup to the vet. More than three weeks since she’d seen Cliff.

The dog was only now beginning to recover from cancer. Fortunately, all the tumors had been successfully removed. For a while, her prognosis had been poor and Grace had worried endlessly that she would lose her faithful companion. If Buttercup had died, Grace would’ve been to blame, and she would have had a hard time forgiving herself. Cliff had warned her that Buttercup didn’t look well; she’d ignored him, just as she’d ignored everything else these last few months during her obsession with Will.

In retrospect, Grace saw how easily she’d fallen into this. It made her ill to think how low she’d sunk in her Internet relationship with Will Jefferson. She berated herself for being swayed by his compliments and his admiration. In truth, though, it hadn’t been as one-sided as that. She knew he’d derived comfort and gratification from Grace’s feelings for him; his marriage was in trouble—that much she believed—and he’d used her to salvage his ego, to bask in another woman’s adoration. Caught in this web of mutual fascination, Grace had ignored one very important fact: Will Jefferson was a married man.

Her face burned with humiliation. Will had purchased her plane ticket to New Orleans, and she knew very well that he’d only booked one hotel room. She also knew what would’ve happened when she joined him.

Adding to her humiliation was the memory of how angry she’d been with Stan, Olivia’s ex-husband, when they’d learned that he’d moved in with Marge. The divorce wasn’t even final and already he was sleeping with another woman, involved in an affair. Grace realized now that she was no better than Stan. No better than the men she’d reviled for being unfaithful.

Cliff had guessed what she’d been doing and had ended their relationship. She’d been such a fool. No one had ever treated her better or showed her as much love and consideration as Cliff Harding.

Maybe her problem was that Cliff was simply too good. Something inside her rejected his genuine warmth and love. Was it because she felt unworthy? All Grace knew was that she’d done the very thing she’d promised Cliff’s daughter she’d never do, and that was hurt Cliff.

She prayed it wasn’t too late. She spent at least an hour gathering her courage to visit Cliff. She’d considered phoning ahead, then decided against it. If he wasn’t at the ranch house, she’d just return another time.

She had to face him, had to confess. She wanted Cliff to understand how sincerely sorry she was. Although she didn’t deserve his forgiveness, she needed it.

Grace dressed carefully. She chose a jeans jumper and blouse Cliff especially liked. As she got ready to leave the house, Buttercup lifted her head from her pillowed dog bed and watched her every move. Maybe it was a fanciful thought, but she felt as if her golden retriever knew Grace was going to see Cliff. Knew and approved. While friendly, Buttercup was a discerning dog and wasn’t prone to accepting strangers, but she’d loved Cliff from the very first.