Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(17)

The horses trotted in single file now as they entered the woods. Linnette followed Cal on a narrow path, which made conversation difficult. The scent of fir and ocean mist pervaded the morning air.

It was just as well that they couldn’t continue their conversation, Linnette decided. She had something important to discuss with Cal and had to figure out how best to approach it. She’d been doing a lot of thinking about his stuttering and wanted to tell him about the research she’d done on speech therapy. Yet she also wanted to make sure he understood that she loved him for the man he was.

After ten minutes or so, they emerged from the forest and onto a shore. Wavelets lapped against a pebble beach; the tide was in and sparkled in the sunlight.

“Oh, my goodness,” Linnette cried, astonished at how secluded this beach was. Mount Rainier, capped with snow, rose off in the distance. Puget Sound spread out before her like an emerald blanket, with Vashon Island so close it seemed she could easily swim over.

“Y-you like it?” Cal asked, his blue eyes clear and alive.

“I like it very much.”

Cal slid off his horse and then helped her down. He left both horses to roam while he set a blanket down on the beach and brought out their lunches. Leaning against a large driftwood log, they sat side by side to eat.

It was perhaps their most romantic date. When they finished their lunch, they stayed where they were, absorbing the beauty of the view. Cal slipped his arm around her and every now and then they’d kiss. His kisses were soft, sweet, his mouth lingering on hers.

Linnette thought about what she wanted to say and almost lost her nerve. She was reluctant to mention anything that might destroy the tranquility of the moment.

“Can I ask you something?” she said after several minutes. “Something I’ve never asked before.”

“O-k-kay.”

“Have you had the stutter all your life?”

As she’d feared, Cal tensed.

“Cal,” she said, scrambling around. She knelt in front of him and cradled his face in her hands. “I have a reason for asking. Please don’t take offense.”

His eyes delved into hers, as if to gauge how much he could trust her. She didn’t flinch, didn’t back down and held his look with her own, letting her love shine through her eyes.

“Always,” he said. “All m-my l-life.”

She rewarded him with a series of slow kisses. “Did you know that when we’re kissing and touching, you don’t stutter?”

He frowned briefly. “I don’t?”

“Nope. When you’re talking to the animals, you don’t, either.” She’d observed this earlier and been struck by it.

Again he seemed unsure he should believe her.

“Have you ever been to a speech therapist?” she asked.

Resistance narrowed his gaze and he glanced away. “N-n-no.”

She turned his face back to her so he couldn’t avoid meeting her eyes. “That’s what I thought.” She took a deep breath. “There’s an excellent therapist here in Kitsap County.” She’d investigated therapists in the region and checked out their credentials.

“Y-y-you w-w-w-want me to g-go?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” she told him, ignoring the fact that his stutter had instantly become more pronounced, which seemed to happen as a reaction to stress. The gravel on the beach was cutting into her knees; still, she stayed where she was. “I’m just letting you know there’s help if you want it.” She placed the emphasis on him. This was up to Cal, and whatever he decided was fine with her.

When he didn’t respond right away, Linnette sat down beside him once again. Cal draped his arm around her shoulder and brought her against his side. She felt peaceful and calm in his embrace.

“W-would y-you go with m-me?”

“For the first visit, anyway—if that’s what you want.”

Leaning over, Cal kissed the top of her head. “Y-you g-got on Sheba.”

He was telling her that although she was apprehensive about riding, Linnette had climbed into the saddle—and that he was willing to take a risk, too. He would see a therapist about his speech impediment, despite his intense need to protect his own privacy.

“I owe my mother a big debt of thanks,” Linnette whispered more to herself than to Cal.

“Oh?”

“She paid a lot of money at that auction so I could meet you, and now that I have, I think she got the bargain of the century.” She grinned. “What I really mean is that I did.”

Seven

As Rachel Pendergast was putting a load of clean clothes in her dryer, the phone rang. She reached it just before the fifth ring, which was when her answering machine always came on.

She’d been waiting to hear from Nate all day and dove breathlessly for the receiver. “Hello.”

“Rachel?”

It was a young girl’s voice, instantly recognizable as that of nine-year-old Jolene Peyton. They’d been good friends for the last four years. Soon after widower Bruce Peyton had brought his young daughter into the salon for a haircut, Jolene had decided she wanted Rachel to be her new mother. At the time, it had created an embarrassing situation.

Bruce still grieved for his wife, who’d died in a car accident on her way to pick up Jolene from kinder-garten. He’d been adamant about having no interest in any kind of romance—with anyone, Rachel included. She accepted him at his word and over the next few years, as Jolene and Rachel continued to meet, Bruce and Rachel had become friends. They occasionally went out to dinner, mostly to discuss Jolene, since Bruce often sought her advice. Because she’d lost her own mother when she was relatively young, Rachel identified with the child.