Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7)(22)

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Troy grew quiet. “I didn’t stop writing you, Faith.”

“I didn’t stop writing you, either.”

“I phoned,” he said, “and your mother said you were out. Later, someone else told me you were seeing some other guy. I got the message.”

“I didn’t date anyone other than you until after I left for college that September.”

The silence seemed to hum between them.

“My mother,” she breathed slowly. “My mother was the one who took out the mail every day and collected it, too.”

“She didn’t like me?” Troy couldn’t remember Mrs. Carroll being particularly hostile toward him.

“She liked you fine, but she thought we were too young to be serious,” Faith said. “I made the mistake of telling her I hoped you’d give me an engagement ring for Christmas.”

The irony was, Troy had planned on doing exactly that.

“You mean to say you believed I’d just stopped writing?” Faith asked. “Without saying a word? You honestly believed I’d do that to you?”

“Well, yes,” Troy admitted. “Just like you believed I’d given up sending you letters.”

She hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. “Did you try to get in touch with me when you finished basic training?” she asked. “You came home on leave, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” Troy told her. “I went to your house—that was in late August—but by then you’d already left for college. I wanted to talk to you, but when I asked for your new address, your mother said it was probably best not to contact you.”

“My mother,” Faith groaned. “I never suspected she’d do anything like that.”

“I didn’t, either.”

They both seemed at a loss as to what to say next.

Finally she whispered, “You broke my heart.”

He hadn’t come out of the relationship unscathed, either. “You broke mine,” he told her.

Faith exhaled softly, then said, “It seems my mother has a great deal to answer for.”

“Is she still alive?” Troy didn’t figure there was much point in dwelling on the sins of the past.

“No. She died ten years ago.”

“Despite everything, our lives worked out well, didn’t they?” he said. “Maybe not the way we expected, but…”

“Yes,” Faith said. “I met Carl at Central Washington and we got married in 1970.”

Funny little coincidences. “Sandy and I were married the same year. In June.”

“What day?”

“The twenty-third. What about you?”

“The twenty-third.”

This was too weird. They’d each been married on the same day and in the same year—to someone else.

“Children?” he asked.

“Two—a boy, Scott, and a girl, Jay Lynn. Scottie lives in Cedar Cove, like I said, and teaches at the high school. Jay Lynn’s married and the mother of two. She’s currently a stay-at-home mom. What about you?”

“One daughter, Megan. She works at the framing shop down by the waterfront.”

“Oh, my goodness! Scottie just had her frame a picture I gave him of his great-grandparents. It was taken in the 1930s on the family farm in Kansas.”

Their lives had intersected more than once. And in the last few years, she’d visited town to see her family; they could have run into each other at any time, yet never had.

“So you’re the sheriff these days,” Faith said.

“Yeah, Cedar Cove’s always been my home. I never wanted to live anywhere else. There aren’t that many of us from our graduating class around anymore.”

“I heard about Dan Sherman’s death,” Faith told him. “Poor Grace. Scottie called me when his body was discovered.”

“That was a rough one,” Troy said. He knew Dan but they’d never been close friends. “Grace is remarried—to a local rancher.” He paused. “You’d like Cliff. He’s a down-to-earth, no-nonsense kind of guy.”

“What about Olivia?”

As he recalled, Faith and Olivia had been fairly good friends in high school.

“I always meant to keep in touch with Olivia, but life sort of crowded in.”

“Olivia married a guy called Stan Lockhart when she graduated from college. They were divorced the year their son died.”

“I knew she’d become a judge but I hadn’t heard that she’d lost a child. Or that her marriage broke up.”

“It all happened more than twenty years ago now. You never attended any of the class reunions, did you?” He should know; he’d been to every one.

“No. What about you?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Troy would’ve preferred to avoid them, but it was hard since he lived in town. And he’d been one of the senior class officers, so people expected him to plan the event. Against his will, he’d done it for most of the reunions, thanks mainly to Sandy and her organizational skills. His daughter had helped with the last reunion. He’d rather have stayed home.

“You were going to be a nurse, weren’t you?”