Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber
trained by her previous owner and didn’t budge from her appointed place until Grace arrived, even if she was late, as she was today. She collected the day’s mail and the newspaper, murmuring apologies and endearments to Buttercup. She flipped through the advertisements and bills as she walked back to the house and paused midstep when she came across a letter from Atlanta. The return address told her it was from Will Jefferson, Olivia’s older brother. Grace eagerly ripped open the envelope. She’d always been fond of Will.
Standing on the sidewalk, she quickly scanned the neatly typed, one-page letter. While in high school, Grace had idolized Olivia’s brother from afar. He’d been a heartthrob way back then, and the years had done little to diminish his appeal. She’d seen him just recently when he’d flown home for Charlotte’s surgery. Grace was amazed at how attractive she found him even now, thirty-seven years after she’d graduated from high school.
His letter was one of condolence. He told her how sorry he was about Dan, then wrote briefly about the changes he’d noticed in Cedar Cove. He said it had felt good to be home for more than just a brief visit after all these years. He added that he’d enjoyed seeing her. Since his return to Atlanta, he’d been talking to his wife about retiring in a few years and said he’d like to consider moving back to Cedar Cove.
Grace knew Olivia and Charlotte must be thrilled at the prospect. Then she saw that under his signature, Will had included his e-mail address. He didn’t ask her to write, but there it was, like an open invitation.
On her way into the house, Grace went through Will’s letter a second time, trying to read between the lines. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, nothing beyond his sincere sympathy and a bit of chatty news about his future plans.
She replaced the letter inside the envelope, fed Buttercup and then turned on the television. These days her TV was more for companionship than entertainment. The evening was unseasonably warm and she dug around her refrigerator, deciding she’d just have a salad. She found herself humming as she shuffled the milk carton around two small yogurt containers.
Grace stopped abruptly and straightened. When she’d left the library, she’d been feeling melancholy, but now her spirits were soaring. A feeling of happy anticipation filled her. The only thing she could attribute this change to was Will’s letter. Was she so fickle, she wondered with some dismay, that a letter from an old friend—a high-school crush—could improve her mood so radically?
She didn’t get the opportunity to consider that. Buttercup barked once and trotted to the front door just seconds before the bell rang.
Grace walked over to answer it and discovered Olivia standing on the other side of her screen.
“Do you have a minute?” her friend asked. She looked upset, which shocked Grace, since Olivia was normally so composed.
“Olivia! Of course. What’s happened?”
Her friend gestured hopelessly as if she didn’t know where to start. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe what?”
“First I hear from Stan, and then after weeks of silence, from Jack, too. This was within a few hours of each other—it’s as if those two have radar and know exactly what the other is doing.”
This was fabulous news as far as Grace was concerned. “Jack? You heard from Jack?” She sat down on the sofa.
Olivia nodded. “The man is a weasel, that’s what he is.”
“Jack?” Grace asked, puzzled. “What did he do this time?”
Olivia flopped down next to Grace. “He had flowers delivered to the house. They’re gorgeous and the colors are incredible. It must’ve cost him a fortune, but that’s not the half of it.”
“Jack sent you flowers?” Grace cried as though outraged. “Why, that low-down, dirty rat.”
“I called to thank him.”
“A mistake for sure,” Grace said. She enjoyed seeing her friend so obviously in love with Jack—and so confused by him—although she wished Olivia could sort out her feelings. Naturally Stan was eager to distract her, eager to have her back, and feeling as unsettled as she did, Olivia might weaken and return to him.
Grace would say one thing for Olivia’s ex-husband: his timing was impeccable. The minute Olivia got involved in another relationship—up popped a repentant Stan, hoping to lure her back.
“You won’t believe what he said to me.”
“Jack or Stan?” Grace was losing track.
“Both of them,” Olivia cried.
“Start with Stan.” If Olivia was ready to have Jack arrested for sending her flowers, Grace could only imagine what her ex-husband had done.
“Stan phoned and wanted to take me to dinner.”
“He didn’t,” Grace said, feigning a gasp. “Lock him up and throw away the key!”
Olivia glared at her, eyes glittering with irritation. “You’re making fun of me, Grace Sherman.”
Grace laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “No one’s sending me flowers and asking me to dinner these days. There’s got to be some other reason you’re so annoyed. Are they trying to outdo each other?” That made sense—but on the other hand, it seemed to be what Olivia wanted, judging by her earlier complaints.
Olivia unfolded her arms and stroked Buttercup’s silky head. “Actually, Stan started it. He wants me to have dinner with him in Seattle on Friday night.”
Grace arched her eyebrows. “Why Seattle?”
“He’s got a corporate dinner he’s required to attend and he didn’t want to go alone. He has a hotel room and—”
“One room?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “He seems to think I’m too naive to know what he’s got in mind. Oh, sure, the room will have two beds, but I wasn’t born yesterday and I know Stanley Lockhart. He has plans.”
“What about Jack?”
“The flowers arrived,” she said dreamily. “Grace, after all these weeks, I have to tell you I was so pleased to get them.”
Grace was equally thrilled. Although it had taken Jack long enough…. “What did the card say?”
Olivia dropped her gaze. “He signed his name. That’s all.”
Smart man. “In other words, he made the first move and the rest is up to you?”
“Exactly.”
“You phoned him?”
She nodded. “I did, and he answered on the first ring—almost as if he’d been sitting there waiting for me to call. It felt wonderful to talk to him again. We were getting along famously until—” Her eyes narrowed and she heaved a deep sigh.
“Until what?”
“He asked me to dinner on Friday night, and I made the mistake of saying there must be something in the air because I was getting dinner invitations right and left.”
Not the most brilliant comment, Grace agreed, but Olivia already knew that.
“It took Jack about two seconds to realize the other invitation came from Stan. Then he got all weird on me and said he was busy on Friday, after all. He wished me a lovely evening with Stan, and before I could say another word, he made some excuse and was off the phone.”
Grace wanted to groan out loud.
Olivia’s shoulders sank. “Now you know why I’m upset.”
“You aren’t going to dinner with Stan, are you?” Grace asked, just to be sure.
“Not hardly,” Olivia muttered.
“I’m free