only a take a minute to fix,” She dropped her gaze to his leg, and her smile faded. “But if that swelling is any gauge, your knee’ll take a lot longer.”
Bryce looked down at his gray wool slacks. The fabric stretched tight across his knee. Wrecked for a week. Maybe two. “You’re likely right.”
“Does it hurt, dear?”
“Like the devil’s pinching it.
Vic returned with Collin’s ivory-handled cane. “Here you go, Bryce.”
“Thanks.” Bryce took the cane. A dolphin had been carved in the ivory. Impressed with the craftsmanship and intricate detail, he lifted his brows, rubbed his thumb over its chiseled surface. “Beautiful work.”
“My, but you look debonair.” Her eyes twinkling, Miss Hattie patted at her apron. “As debonair as Collin himself—and he was a handsome thing.”
Bryce looked down at his crumpled slacks, his oatmeal-infested shirt, and his limp red and gray silk tie. “I don’t think handsome or debonair is quite the impression I made on your new guest.” Caline probably thought he was a flake and was afraid to leave his own kids with him.
“I’m sure as certain you made a fine impression. The package is a little worse for the wear, my dear, but the goods inside are intact and as interesting as ever.” Miss Hattie gave Bryce’s freshly trimmed beard a friendly pat. “Speaking of our new guest, would you mind terribly helping her, too? I hate to ask you to deal with the stairs, but I need to get this chicken and cheese casserole in the oven now or we’ll be late for lunch.” Miss Hattie twisted her lips. “Mrs. Wiggins is rigorously attached to her schedules, and I’d rather not upset the dear woman any more today. Still, Jimmy’s busy with Pastor’s car and Vic has to get back to delivering the mail, and Miss Tate has so much—”
“Miss Tate?” The grin curving Bryce’s mouth faded and his stomach dropped to his knees. His client Gregory Tate’s ex-wife? The mysterious Mrs. Tate? The stranger Suzie had just referred to as her new mom—maybe? She couldn’t be here. How, why, would she be here? “Caline Tate?”
Miss Hattie nodded, a knowing gleam in her eye.
Chapter 4
Cally loved the Great White Room on sight. Tall paneled walls stretched up to its high ceiling and the plank-oak flooring, scattered with braided rugs woven in soft blue and warm peach, invited a person in, welcomed them the way the entire house did, seemingly opening its arms to shelter any who stepped inside. But the little turret room that opened to the bedroom, she more than loved. Sheer white curtains hung at its windows above fluffy-cushioned window seats, and an oval rug matching the others lay in the octagon-shaped crook before the windows. Obviously the room got first light in the morning. And just the thought of sitting there, staring out on the ocean and breathing in its salty fresh scent had little ripples of pleasure spreading through her insides. Seascape Inn seemed a perfect place to gather perspective and make decisions. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be lucky enough while here to also find a snippet of courage.
Was that why she’d felt drawn to come here?
She’d certainly had no intention of going anywhere except to the cabin in Nova Scotia. But when she’d seen the sign for Sea Haven Village, she’d felt the strongest urge to turn. It was the strangest thing, almost a spiritual promise of peace and serenity. Considering her situation, that temptation had been too potent to ignore. And despite the breakfast fiasco she’d interrupted—God, but Bryce had looked mortified, and every bit as adorable as his muddy son, sitting on the floor covered in oatmeal and mud, hurt and trying hard to pretend he wasn’t—she felt at ease here. Not at peace, but somehow comforted. She liked it.
It’d been a long time since she’d felt comforted, or able to deal with her circumstance. It’d been even longer since she’d been able to get a grip on her emotions. And, pitiful
Bryce looked down at his gray wool slacks. The fabric stretched tight across his knee. Wrecked for a week. Maybe two. “You’re likely right.”
“Does it hurt, dear?”
“Like the devil’s pinching it.
Vic returned with Collin’s ivory-handled cane. “Here you go, Bryce.”
“Thanks.” Bryce took the cane. A dolphin had been carved in the ivory. Impressed with the craftsmanship and intricate detail, he lifted his brows, rubbed his thumb over its chiseled surface. “Beautiful work.”
“My, but you look debonair.” Her eyes twinkling, Miss Hattie patted at her apron. “As debonair as Collin himself—and he was a handsome thing.”
Bryce looked down at his crumpled slacks, his oatmeal-infested shirt, and his limp red and gray silk tie. “I don’t think handsome or debonair is quite the impression I made on your new guest.” Caline probably thought he was a flake and was afraid to leave his own kids with him.
“I’m sure as certain you made a fine impression. The package is a little worse for the wear, my dear, but the goods inside are intact and as interesting as ever.” Miss Hattie gave Bryce’s freshly trimmed beard a friendly pat. “Speaking of our new guest, would you mind terribly helping her, too? I hate to ask you to deal with the stairs, but I need to get this chicken and cheese casserole in the oven now or we’ll be late for lunch.” Miss Hattie twisted her lips. “Mrs. Wiggins is rigorously attached to her schedules, and I’d rather not upset the dear woman any more today. Still, Jimmy’s busy with Pastor’s car and Vic has to get back to delivering the mail, and Miss Tate has so much—”
“Miss Tate?” The grin curving Bryce’s mouth faded and his stomach dropped to his knees. His client Gregory Tate’s ex-wife? The mysterious Mrs. Tate? The stranger Suzie had just referred to as her new mom—maybe? She couldn’t be here. How, why, would she be here? “Caline Tate?”
Miss Hattie nodded, a knowing gleam in her eye.
Chapter 4
Cally loved the Great White Room on sight. Tall paneled walls stretched up to its high ceiling and the plank-oak flooring, scattered with braided rugs woven in soft blue and warm peach, invited a person in, welcomed them the way the entire house did, seemingly opening its arms to shelter any who stepped inside. But the little turret room that opened to the bedroom, she more than loved. Sheer white curtains hung at its windows above fluffy-cushioned window seats, and an oval rug matching the others lay in the octagon-shaped crook before the windows. Obviously the room got first light in the morning. And just the thought of sitting there, staring out on the ocean and breathing in its salty fresh scent had little ripples of pleasure spreading through her insides. Seascape Inn seemed a perfect place to gather perspective and make decisions. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be lucky enough while here to also find a snippet of courage.
Was that why she’d felt drawn to come here?
She’d certainly had no intention of going anywhere except to the cabin in Nova Scotia. But when she’d seen the sign for Sea Haven Village, she’d felt the strongest urge to turn. It was the strangest thing, almost a spiritual promise of peace and serenity. Considering her situation, that temptation had been too potent to ignore. And despite the breakfast fiasco she’d interrupted—God, but Bryce had looked mortified, and every bit as adorable as his muddy son, sitting on the floor covered in oatmeal and mud, hurt and trying hard to pretend he wasn’t—she felt at ease here. Not at peace, but somehow comforted. She liked it.
It’d been a long time since she’d felt comforted, or able to deal with her circumstance. It’d been even longer since she’d been able to get a grip on her emotions. And, pitiful
Similar Books
