The Heart Remembers by Irene Hannon Page A

seemed to be too much to do and not enough time.
    As Maggie 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? Could it be that she wanted to keep herself too busy 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 big time.
    But what surprised her even more was the factthat 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. Love, however, 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 as she slid the casseroles into the refrigerator. Jake had had his chance. She wasn’t about to give him another.
    Â 
    Abby looked up from her seat in a wicker chair on the porch and grinned as she saw Jake stride up the path.
    â€œDid you come to see Aunt Maggie?” She laid her book aside.
    â€œPlease don’t tell me I missed her again?” He’d been trying 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.
    â€œDon’t worry, you didn’t. She’s in the studio.”
    The tension in his shoulders eased, and he smiled. “Where’s the studio?”
    â€œIt’s the little room off the kitchen.”
    â€œWould it be all right if I go back?”
    â€œSure. Aunt Maggie won’t mind.” Abby ignored the worried look Allison sent her way as her sister stepped outside. “It’s just down the hall and through the door at the end.”
    â€œThanks.” Jake turned to find Allison in the doorway.
    â€œHello, 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.”
    â€œGood. 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? 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?
    Â 
    Maggie tilted her head and frowned. She wanted the seascape to convey restlessness, inner turbulence, the sense of impending fury. But she wasn’tquite 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