“I’m sure you know he broke off a long-standing relationship with the daughter of one of our dearest friends because of you.”

Nate had made it clear on their first date that he had a girlfriend back home.

“Yes, he did mention that. I hope it hasn’t caused any problems with your friends.” Nate had also mentioned that he was glad to be out of the relationship and that the girl—she didn’t remember her name—was already engaged to someone else.

Patrice’s returning laughter sounded a bit strained. “No problem at all. Please don’t concern yourself. Everything’s fine. I, uh, hear you’re a bit older than Nate.”

This, too, had led to arguments between Nate and Rachel. “Five years,” she murmured. “I’m five years older.” On their first meeting, Nate had seemed so young, and at thirty, Rachel had felt worlds older. But Nate had eventually convinced her that those few years meant nothing. Every now and then, she reminded herself that when she’d graduated from high school, Nate had been in seventh grade.

“Five years isn’t that much of a difference,” Patrice said reassuringly. “I didn’t know what to think when Nate said you were older. It would be just like him to arrive with a forty-year-old divorcée on his arm. He does things like that, you know? I swear, it’s just another way of defying his father and me. He did that as a youngster, too.” She laughed lightly, as if a little embarrassed.

“Did Nate tell you I’m a nail tech?” Rachel felt she needed to bring up her occupation. Might as well put it all out there.

“You’re in the navy, too?” Patrice asked, sounding surprised.

“No, I work in a salon and do hair and nails. That kind of tech.”

Silence. Then, “Oh.”

Her reaction told Rachel that Nate hadn’t said anything about it.

Patrice recovered quickly. “No, but that’s our Nate. He likes to deliver his little surprises. I’m sure you’re very talented with hair and, ah, fingernails.”

“Thank you,” Rachel managed. “Perhaps I should pass the phone back to Nate.”

“Yes, please.”

Rachel gladly returned the cell phone, and while Nate ended the conversation, she started walking. She needed to think about the emotions this brief conversation with his mother had brought to the surface. She was afraid she’d made a terrible impression. His mother’s attitude was clear and unmistakable: Without even meeting her, Patrice Olsen had decided Rachel was an inappropriate choice for her only son.

Nate caught up with her a few minutes later and she was grateful to see he was no longer talking on his cell.

“Rachel, wait,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “What did my mother say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. She was very nice.” Even as she spoke, Rachel’s stomach knotted. “I can’t believe I let this happen,” she whispered, covering her face with both hands. Despite the inner voice that had warned her about the dangers of this relationship, she’d resisted. Almost from the first, she’d known that dating this young officer wouldn’t work for either of them. His father was a congressman, for heaven’s sake!

“Rachel, tell me,” he pleaded.

“She had no idea that I’m employed as a nail tech. She thought it had something to do with the navy.” She hiccupped a laugh at the absurdity of such a comment. His mother had to know about nail techs, but Rachel didn’t want to assume the comment had been deliberate. Any more than she wanted to think the remarks about her age and his previous girlfriend hid some malicious intent.

“I’m phoning Mom back and asking her to apologize,” Nate said, reaching for the cell clipped to his belt.

“No, please, don’t.” Her hand stopped him. “It’s nothing.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I…I don’t belong in your world.”

“Wrong,” he declared. “We belong together. I knew it from the beginning.” He walked away, pacing restlessly, as though he couldn’t bear to stand still. “This isn’t the first time my parents have done this kind of thing. They feel this need to control my life, and I’m not letting it happen. I love you, Rachel. Do you hear me?”

She stared at him, afraid to believe what he was saying.

“I love you,” he repeated, “and furthermore, I don’t give a damn what my parents think about it. The minute they meet you, they’ll love you, too, and if they don’t, then it’s their loss. I won’t allow them to come between us.”

She wanted to trust in the depth of their feelings, but while he might be sure of how he felt right now, at some point that could all change. “Nate, please don’t. It’d be best all the way round if we just ended this.”

“No way! You aren’t doing this to me again. You’ve got to believe in us, Rach.”

She did, and yet she was afraid.

He drew her into his arms, and his hold on her tightened as she struggled with her resolve. “You can’t let every little roadblock dissuade you,” he whispered.

That was true but…

“Are you so willing to give up on us? Do I mean so little to you?” Already Rachel felt herself weakening. Nate was right; she needed to be determined, especially where his family was concerned. She had to accept the strength of their love. She had to believe.

Twenty-Four

On the last Saturday of May, Charlotte and Ben decided to visit the Farmers’ Market at the Cedar Cove waterfront. She loved the displays of flowers and baked goods, plus the various crafts. And she always made a point of visiting the animal shelter’s booth, where Grace often volunteered. It was still too early for much fresh produce but the market did a thriving business, nonetheless.

Although the day was overcast, Charlotte chose to be optimistic and suggested they walk. Being a good sport, Ben agreed.

“Look,” Charlotte said as soon as they entered the market. “There’s fresh rhubarb this week.” Her own garden had once yielded an abundant supply. She hurried forward to buy half a dozen stalks.

“I don’t suppose I’ve mentioned that rhubarb pie’s my absolute favorite,” Ben said as he took the sack from the vendor.

“I thought peach pie was your favorite,” Charlotte teased.

Her husband recovered quickly. “Peach pie is indeed my favorite—in August. My favorite pie changes seasonally, sort of like those flags you hang out on the porch and have me switch around according to the months.” The current flag celebrated spring.

“Ah, that explains it,” Charlotte said, holding back a smile as she hooked her arm through Ben’s. What she appreciated most about him was his gratitude for the little things she did—and, of course, everything he did for her. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her company and, while they didn’t live in each other’s hip pockets, he often accompanied her on outings. Grocery shopping was a good example. Ben seemed to actually like driving her around town, and she was grateful not to have to do it herself. He loved her children and grandchildren, too.

Recently he’d been in contact with his ex-daughter-in law, David’s first wife and the mother of a little girl. Ben didn’t want to lose touch with his granddaughter and had taken to calling her every week.

“I thought we’d pick up some fresh clams for dinner,” Charlotte said. “What do you think?”

“Anything you do with clams is bound to be delicious,” Ben commented.

As they waited their turn at the popular fishmonger’s, Cliff Harding came up beside them.

“Why, Cliff,” Charlotte said delightedly. She’d met Cliff five years earlier through his grandfather, Tom Harding, better known as the Yodeling Cowboy of 1930s and 40s movie fame. These days Cliff was considered almost family. Now that he was married to Grace, Olivia’s lifelong friend, Charlotte felt a special closeness to him.

“You’re looking well,” Charlotte said, accepting his hug. “Married life seems to agree with you.”

Cliff grinned a bit sheepishly. “A man could easily get accustomed to having a wife.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Ben murmured.

“Is Grace still at the shelter booth?” Charlotte asked, glancing around.

Cliff nodded toward the far corner of the market. “Yup. She’s trying to get a couple more of those kittens adopted out.”

“Have you heard from Cal?” Ben asked.

Charlotte was curious, too. Cliff and Grace had had a send-off party for him before he went to Wyoming. It had been a lovely evening complete with a barbecue and buffet. Charlotte was furious about the slaughter of those horses, and she felt grateful that Cliff and Cal cared enough to take action. She’d made a healthy contribution to one of the adoption facilities. Because of Grace, the local animal shelter had heard about the plight of the mustangs, too, and collected several hundred dollars’ worth of donations.

“Cal keeps in touch as often as he can. He’s linked up with a rancher in the area, and there’s lots of interest from folks here in Cedar Cove. Vicki Newman, the vet, has decided to volunteer, too. Some of these mustangs are in dire need of medical attention. She has a new partner, who agreed Vicki should go, so she’s meeting Cal there.”

“That’s great. When do you expect him back?” Charlotte knew Linnette McAfee missed Cal terribly. Corrie, her mom, had mentioned it when Charlotte had seen her and Peggy Belden at lunch recently.

“I can’t say for sure,” Cliff told her. “He checks in whenever he can, but apparently he’s in an area that doesn’t get good cell phone reception. Sometimes I don’t hear from him for three or four days.”

“Well, I for one think what you’re doing is a great thing,” Ben said heartily.

Charlotte nodded. “I know Cal’s the one who’s actually out there in the wild west, but you’re just as involved, Cliff, since you’re paying him and he’s using your horse trailer and you’re going to adopt some of those mustangs. I’m proud of you, Cliff.”

By the time they’d finished chatting, and purchased the fresh clams, rain had started to fall. “We’d better head home before we get soaked,” Ben told her when Cliff had hurried off.

The walk up the hill from the waterfront left Charlotte a bit breathless. “I think I’ll heat up some tomato soup for lunch,” she said as they neared the house.

“With toasted cheese sandwiches?” Ben asked.

“If you like.”

The gentle pressure from his arm around her waist said it was exactly what he’d like. This man loved a good meal and so, for that matter, did she.

Harry, her guard cat, was waiting impatiently when they returned to the house. He peered out from the safety of the doorway and promptly went back to his spot on top of the sofa, where he curled up and resumed his sleep.

After unpacking their purchases and drying off, Charlotte put the leftover soup on the stove and got out bread for sandwiches. When the doorbell rang, she let Ben answer it. Curious, she stuck her head around the kitchen door a moment later to see who’d decided to visit at lunchtime.