surprised you haven’t heard about the auction. Everyone in town’s talking about it.”
“Just as long as everyone knows Jon is out of circulation,” Maryellen teased.
“Honey, from the moment Jon Bowman looked at you, he was a goner.”
Maryellen grinned. At one point-during her avoidance phase-she’d attempted to match Jon up with one of the nail techs. Her plan had backfired and as a result, Maryellen had come to realize how strong the attraction between them was. Then, a few months ago, she’d managed to convince herself that Jon was involved with someone else. The thought of him with another woman had nearly destroyed her. Only later did she learn that he was completely committed to her and Katie.
“Are you excited about the wedding?”
Right now, Maryellen was too tired to be excited. With their jobs, they’d both been working twenty-hour days in an effort to have the house and yard ready for the ceremony. Jon had spent countless hours doing yardwork and planning the reception. Thankfully the guest list was small, under thirty.
Friday was his last day at The Lighthouse restaurant, where he worked nights as a chef. He was ready to make the transition and dedicate all his time to photography. Maryellen would continue working at the art gallery until the end of the year-or until she became pregnant again. After that, she’d serve as Jon’s agent, marketing his pictures and negotiating with galleries around the country.
The thought of a second baby made her feel weak with longing. They’d managed to avoid physical lovemaking, but it had been a strain on both of them. Still, she felt that waiting until they were married was the right decision-for emotional reasons rather than rational ones-although she’d never guessed it would be this difficult.
As soon as Rachel was finished with her nails, Maryellen drove to her mother’s house to pick up Katie.
“Leave her with me,” Grace insisted. “You’ve got enough on your mind.”
“You’re sure?”
“I love having her.”
Maryellen and Katie were staying with Grace for the next two nights. “Then I think I should drive out to Jon’s and see what I can do to help him get things ready.”
“You go ahead.”
Maryellen left, grateful her mother had been so understanding. Just as she suspected, Jon was working in the yard, spreading beauty bark around the base of the rhododendrons and azaleas. Both were in full bloom and shockingly vibrant in color. Jon had counted over a hundred blooming rhododendrons on his property. Of them all, Maryellen’s favorites were the bright red ones.
When she pulled in the long gravel driveway, Jon walked over to the car and opened her door. “I came to help,” she said and although she was tempted, she resisted wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him.
“I thought you were getting your nails done?”
“I already did.” She held out her hands for his inspection. The pale rose polish sparkled in the sunlight. “What can I do?”
“Nothing out here. I wouldn’t want you to risk damaging one of those fingernails.” He leaned on the shovel. “Why don’t you unpack? I’ve got boxes shoved in every conceivable corner.”
“Out of sight, out of mind?”
“Not exactly,” he said with a chuckle.
Maryellen took his advice and decided to start in the master bedroom. The kitchen could wait; besides, that area was Jon’s domain. He was the cook in the family, although she was willing to do her share of meal preparation. Marriage to her was a partnership, and Maryellen had every intention of being a good wife. If that meant chopping pounds of onions, well…she’d do it. In fact, she’d do anything to make her marriage as strong and healthy as possible.
She climbed the stairs to the bedroom, then paused in the doorway, hands on her hips, as she surveyed the room where she’d soon be sleeping. The photograph Jon had taken of her months earlier hung on the wall by the bed. It showed her in a rocking chair nursing Katie when their daughter was a newborn. He’d managed to capture the wonder and awe and love she felt, holding this tiny being in her arms. She’d hardly been conscious of Jon’s presence at the time, so absorbed was she by Katie.
It gave her immeasurable joy to place her clothes in the closet next to Jon’s. She carefully pushed his shirts aside and her hand lingered there. In two days’ time, she would be Jon Bowman’s wife. She felt a renewed sense of anticipation-and a surge of love for the man who’d fathered her child.
She opened the dresser drawers and started rearranging his things and making room for her own. That was when she found the letters. Tucked in with old receipts, maps and loose change were a number of envelopes. Most had been opened but a few remained sealed. Curiosity got the better of her and she pulled out a sheet, but then she paused. She refused to begin her marriage with an act of deception-snooping through letters that were addressed to Jon, not to her. Unsure what to do, she stacked them in a neat pile and set them to one side.
She heard the front door open and Jon calling up the stairs. “I’m ready for a break. How about you?”
She walked out of the bedroom to stand at the railing and looked down. “Be with you in a minute. I’m just finishing up here.”
“Okay.”
“I found a bunch of letters in a drawer. Is there any place you want me to put them?”
He frowned, hesitated and then shrugged. “Toss ’em.”
“In the garbage?”
Nodding, he turned and walked into the kitchen.
“Who are they from?”
“No one important,” he shouted back.
“An old girlfriend?” she pressed.
He snickered loudly enough for her to hear him all the way up the stairs. “Hardly. Just get rid of the whole bunch.”
Maryellen dumped the letters into the plastic garbage bag, but then she couldn’t resist. She plucked out the top one and looked at the return address. It was from the small coastal town of Seal Beach, Oregon. Years ago Maryellen had driven through it along Highway 1. She’d stopped for gas and lunch, and for some reason she’d never forgotten the town.
“Who do you know in Seal Beach?” she called down, reluctant to drop the matter. She began to descend the stairs, still clutching the letters.
Jon stepped out of the kitchen. “You aren’t going to let this rest, are you?”
She slid her hand down the smooth oak banister as she walked. “I can’t help being curious. You’d feel the same if it was me.”
Jon shook his head, scowling. “I should’ve ditched those a long time ago. They’re from my parents.”
“Some of them haven’t even been opened.”
He stared up at her. “My father and stepmother are out of my life, Maryellen. They made their choice and I made mine. I
