It Had to Be You. Irene Hannon
is obviously history.”
“Right.”
“And it isn’t as if he even means anything to you anymore.”
“Right” This time there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“What was he doing here, anyway?”
“He’s interviewing for a job at the Maritime Academy.”
“You mean he might actually move up here?”
“Yes. And that makes me even more nervous. Which is ridiculous, because we’re really no more than strangers to each other now.”
“It’s probably just the shock of seeing him,” Philip reassured her. “Where has he lived all these years?”
“All over, I guess. He’s been in the navy. I think he still would be if it wasn’t for his father.” Maggie briefly explained the situation to Philip.
“Hmm” was his only cryptic comment when she finished.
Maggie tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I guess I’m a little surprised. And impressed. Not many people would give up their career, start over, change their whole life to keep a promise basically made under duress. He sounds like a very honorable man.”
Maggie frowned. “Yes, he does,” she admitted. “And it’s so at odds with the image I’ve had of him all these years.”
“Well, people do change.”
“I suppose so,” she admitted reluctantly. “I just wish I didn’t feel so off balance.”
“Things will work out, Maggie,” he told her encouragingly. “They always do. You’ve successfully weathered a lot of storms though the years, and you’ll ride this one out, too. I know. And I’m always here if you need a sympathetic ear. Don’t forget that.” He touched her hand lightly and smiled, then switched gears. “In the meantime…when do I get a preview of the new painting?”
“Will next week be okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll reserve a spot right near the front for it You know, you have a large enough body of work now to consider your own show.”
Maggie grimaced. “I just don’t feel…well…good enough…to have an official show.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? Besides, you’ll never know till you try. It’s not like you to back off from a challenge.”
“I know. But my painting is so…personal. If I got bad reviews it would be devastating. I’m not sure I’m ready to face that.”
“First of all, they wouldn’t be bad. And second of all, you can face anything, Maggie Fitzgerald. Because you are one of the strongest women I know.”
Maggie wanted to believe him. As recently as yesterday she might have. But a lot had happened since then. And at this particular moment, she didn’t feel very strong at all—thanks to one very unforgettable man named Jake West.
“Jake called twice. Will call again tomorrow.”
Maggie’s heart leapt to her throat as she read the note on the kitchen counter. She should have figured he’d call while she was out She hoped the girls had explained where she was. She didn’t want him to think she was trying to avoid him. It was just that she led a very busy life. Her days—and evenings—were filled. Like tonight. The zoning board meeting had run far later then she expected, because of some heated discussion. And she still had a few breakfast preparations to make, even if it was—she glanced at her watch and groaned—ten-thirty. There always seemed to be too much to do and not enough time.
As Maggie methodically set about assembling the egg and cheese casseroles that were tomorrow’s breakfast entrée, she reflected on the hectic pace of her life. For most people, simply running an inn and raising twins would be a full-time job. But she had made other commitments, as well. Like serving on the church council. And on the zoning board. Not to mention the watercolors she did for the greeting card company and, in recent years, pursuit of more serious art in her limited “spare” time. Why did she take so much on? she wondered with a frown. Could it be that she wanted to keep herself so busy that she had little time to dwell on the one thing that was lacking in her life?
With an impatient shake of her head, Maggie beat the eggs even harder. She didn’t usually waste time trying to analyze her life choices. If some of them were coping mechanisms, so be it. They worked, and that was all that mattered. Or they’d worked up until today, she amended. Jake’s reappearance had changed everything and, much to her surprise, rattled her badly.
But what surprised her even more was the fact that when she looked at him, it wasn’t the hurt she remembered, but the intense, heady joy of being in love. In some ways, it would almost be easier to remember the pain. Because that had no appeal But love—that was a different story. That had a whole lot of appeal. It was just that the opportunity had never come along again. And it wasn’t here now, she reminded herself brusquely as she slid the casseroles into the refrigerator. Jake had had his chance. She wasn’t about to give him another.
Abby looked up from her seat in a wicker chair on the porch and grinned as she saw Jake stride up the path.
“Did you come to see Aunt Maggie?” she asked eagerly, laying her book aside.
“Please don’t tell me I missed her again?” He’d been trying unsuccessfully for the past two days to reach her, and the frustration was evident in his voice. If every minute of his stay in Castine hadn’t been packed, he would have simply driven over and planted himself in her drawing room until she had time to talk to him. But he knew one thing for sure. He wasn’t leaving Blue Hill until he saw her again, even if that meant tracking her down wherever she might be now.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t. She’s in the studio, Mr. West”
He felt the tension in his shoulders ease, and he smiled. “Call me Jake. And where’s the studio?”
“It’s the little room off the kitchen.”
“Would it be all right if I go back?”
“Sure. Aunt Maggie won’t mind,” Abby said breezily, ignoring the worried look that Allison sent her way as she stepped outside. “It’s just down the hall and through the door at the end.”
“Thanks.” Jake turned to find Allison in the doorway.
“Hello, Mr. West,” Allison greeted him.
Jake grinned at her. “No one’s called me ‘Mr.’ in years. Just Lieutenant. And both of those sound too formal now. So how about we just make it Jake?”
Allison smiled. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you ladies later.”
Allison watched him disappear, then turned to her sister with a worried frown. “Why did you send him back there?” she demanded urgently. “You know Aunt Maggie said never interrupt her when she’s painting, unless it’s an emergency.”
Abby gave her sister a condescending look. “Allison, Aunt Maggie’s love life is an emergency.”
Allison clamped her lips shut How could she argue with Abby—especially when her sister was right?
Maggie tilted her head and frowned. She wanted the seascape to convey restlessness, inner turbulence, the sense of impending fury. But she wasn’t quite there yet. Considering her firsthand knowledge of the ocean, and given that her own emotional state paralleled the scene she was trying to paint today, it ought to be easy to transfer those feelings to canvas. But the mood was eluding her, and that was frustrating.
A firm tap sounded on the door, and Maggie glanced toward it in annoyance. Why were the twins bothering her? They were old enough now to handle most of the so-called crises that occurred