Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(76)

“Rain’s predicted for tomorrow,” Craig told him.

That explained it. Darkness had fallen, but the sky was clear and stars were starting to show. Any families planning to put up their Christmas trees this weekend would have to purchase them tonight.

While Craig took the saw out of his trunk, Troy glanced around. He recognized several families.

He heard Megan behind him. “Dad! Oh, Dad, there’s someone here I want you to say hello to.”

He looked back at his daughter and abruptly went still. Standing next to Megan was Faith Beckwith.

“Do you remember the wonderful nurse I mentioned?” Megan was asking.

He didn’t. All he could do was stare at Faith.

His mood instantly lifted. “Hello, Faith,” he said. He couldn’t have arranged this any better had he tried.

“You do remember her,” Megan chirped. “She talked about you when we had lunch this week.”

Now that got his attention. “You and Faith had lunch? Together?” He glanced from one to the other, wondering how this had come about.

Megan nodded. “I had some questions about the baby blanket I’m making and I asked Faith to help me.”

Vaguely Troy recalled that his daughter had taken up knitting.

“While we were at lunch, Faith said the two of you knew each other in high school.”

“That was a long time ago,” Faith murmured, studying the ground, which was littered with evergreen twigs and clumps of needles. When she did happen to meet his gaze, she gave him a look that could charitably be described as unfriendly. Given how they’d left things, he had no idea what that was all about.

Megan appeared oblivious to the tension between them. “I meant to tell you about seeing Faith earlier,” she went on to say. “I think it’s so cool that the two of you were friends in high school.”

“We were hardly friends,” she said, slipping her hands in her coat pockets.

“Are you getting your Christmas tree here, too?” Megan asked her.

“I’m with my son and his family,” she said.

“I dragged my dad along, too. He could use some holiday cheer.”

Faith glanced behind her. “Good to see you again, Megan,” she said, nodding curtly in Troy’s direction, “but I should get back to my family. Have a wonderful Christmas,” she added as she turned away.

Something was definitely wrong. Faith had just given him the cold shoulder and he didn’t know why.

“She is so nice,” Megan said.

“Yes,” Troy agreed, watching Faith hurry away.

“I think it’s so cool that the two of you know each other,” Megan said again.

Troy didn’t respond.

“You should ask her out.”

What? Frowning, Troy looked at his daughter. Only a few months ago, she’d been adamantly opposed to his seeing other women. “What do you mean?”

“A date, Dad,” she said and laughed at his blank expression. “Faith is a warm, lovely woman. She’s helped me in so many ways, and I don’t just mean with my knitting. It was Faith who gave me those statistics about MS. She’s been a real encouragement with the pregnancy, too.” Megan slid her arm through his. “You know, Dad, she’s a widow.”

He made a noncommittal response.

“If you were going to date again, I think Faith would be perfect.” His daughter hesitated. “Craig told me not to say anything, but…”

Troy regarded his daughter. “About Faith?”

“Not that.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s about that other woman I saw you with…I think her name’s Sally.” Megan pressed her lips tightly together. “I was pretty upset when Craig and I ran into the two of you, but Craig told me it was none of my business. You have your own life and if you want to start dating again, it’s strictly up to you.”

“I…I appreciate that.”

“The thing is,” Megan continued, “I thought Sally was kind of bossy.”

“Frankly, so did I,” Troy said with a grin.

“Are you going to see her again?”

He laughed. “Not on your life.”

Megan laughed, too. “Gee, Dad, I see Faith over there. Why don’t you go and discuss old times?”

He turned and saw that Megan was right. Faith was standing with her two grandchildren among the Christmas trees. She looked wonderful. Beautiful.

“Bring her a cup of cocoa,” his daughter suggested.

In the interest of making some progress with Faith, he was prepared to overlook the fact that the tree-farm people were gouging him. “I think I will.”

Megan squeezed his arm. “Good luck, Dad.”

“Thanks.”

Troy purchased two cups of hot chocolate and carried them to where Faith stood, with her son and his family close by.

Scott Beckwith nodded at him. “How’re you doing, Sheriff?”

“Fine, fine.”

Faith was standing stiffly beside her grandchildren and seemed to make a point of ignoring him.

“I brought you some cocoa,” he said and held it out to her.

Faith’s hands remained buried deep inside her coat pockets. “No, thank you.”

“I’ll take it,” her youngest grandchild said eagerly.