stretched to discomfort.
“No. I just putter at it. Gifts for friends, things like that.” She held out a mug. “Would you rather sit outside? There’s a space where we’ll be protected if it rains. We could watch the storm, though I’m sure it will only be a tiny one. The wind isn’t blowing hard anymore.”
“Outside sounds fine.”
Before she could lead the way, the phone rang.
“Hey, there. I tried you earlier, but no answer. Were you out on a hot date with the mayor?”
“Um, I’ll have to call you back, Ash. I’ve got company right now.”
“So I was right! Rowena owes me ten bucks.”
“Lucky you. Bye now.”
Knowing full well that her friend would immediately call Row and the two of them would discuss her visitor made Piper uncomfortable, especially with the subject of their conversation so near.
“Sorry, that was a friend of mine.” She pushed open the door. “You didn’t have to come over here with me. The sailboat does have a motor.”
“I’m glad I came. I was curious to see where you lived.” He followed her through the French doors and sank down onto the chair nearest hers. “It’s a beautiful view.”
She tried to see the garden through his eyes. Her grandmother had ordered small, shielded lights installed high up which cast a wash of illumination over her favorite gnarled oak trees. Accent lights hidden by boulders would soon show off the glorious blues of delphiniums, bright-red poppies and candy-pink carnations. Buried in the beds of the soon-to-be fragrant and colorful rose garden were soft, romantic lights, and along the path oversize mushroom lights showed the next step on the path down to the lake.
“Sitting up here, it feels as if the world is far away. It must be a wonderful place to come home to.”
“I never get tired of it.” Piper wished he could see it on a summer day when Cathcart House was at its best. “Every day I thank my grandparents for leaving this to me.”
“How did they die?”
“They moved to Toronto when Papa’s heart needed an operation. But he was too frail to recover. They died within months of each other.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“You didn’t come back?”
“Not for a while. It hurt too much.”
Low, growling thunderclaps rumbled their warnings across the water, and every so often a jagged slash of silver-blue lightning illuminated the rich, black-green forest across the lake for one brief space in time. A few droplets of rain spattered on the flagstones.
Why didn’t he say something?
“When I sit out here and see all the beauty God’s created, I can’t help but think of that hymn, ‘How Great Thou Art.’” It sounded silly, but Piper chalked her uneasiness up to the odd situation with the lights and the feeling that someone was watching them.
“I feel the same way,” Jason admitted. “There are so many lovely places around Serenity Bay. That’s one reason why I want to stay on top of the development we let in. It would be terrible to see the forests cut, the lake polluted and the coastline ruined in the name of progress. Know what I mean?”
She nodded. “Yes, I know. It’s like we’ve been entrusted with something precious, and while I do want others to see and appreciate it, I also want it to be here a hundred years from now.”
“For your grandchildren,” he teased.
“Yes,” she whispered. But Piper didn’t laugh.
Ever since that horrible afternoon she’d kissed Vance goodbye, she’d never allowed herself to think about kids. That only brought stabs of regret for what could never be. Her mother had clung to enough regrets for all of them. At twenty-three, when she’d left Wainwright Inc., Piper had made up her mind that she would never end up like her mother, pining for a man so consumed by making money he didn’t know what his own family was doing.
To love someone so much and have him ignore you—until you lost the will to live— No!
Love best suited people like her grandparents. Vance’s death proved that. Since he’d been gone, Piper had built a wall around her heart. She’d talked to her minister about it, talked to God about it, but somehow she couldn’t risk letting anyone get too close in case she got hurt again. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t trust God when it came to her father. God’s ways were slow and she had to stop Baron now.
“This has been great, but I think I’d better go now that the lightning has stopped. It’s getting quite late.” Jason stood, smiled down at her.
“You don’t have a light on your boat?” Piper asked, rising, too.
“Oh, yes. I won’t have any difficulty getting back.”
“Oh.” Obviously he was simply anxious to get away from her.
“I teach some boys a Sunday school class and I like to bone up on my lessons on Saturday night. They always have questions.” He stepped down off the deck, then turned back. “You’re very welcome to join us, if you’d like. It’s Bayside Believers Church, about half a block from Ida’s. If you meet me on the dock at nine-thirty, I’ll give you a ride. It’s always easier to go somewhere new with somebody else, don’t you think?”
His thoughtfulness touched a chord inside her. How was it he’d managed to read her so easily while he remained an enigma to her?
“Thank you. I’d like that. I’ll be there.”
“I’ll wait for you then. Good night.”
“Good night.” Piper stood on the deck, watching as he wound his way down the path and climbed aboard his boat.
When he looked up, she waved, waited for the sound of his powerful motor to recede then picked up the two mugs and walked inside, carefully locking the door behind her.
She rinsed the mugs, but left them in the sink until morning. Right now there was something else she needed to do.
Piper quickened her step down to the basement. She grabbed a nearby flashlight and shone it on the door. Yes, those were tool marks. And they were new.
She moved back upstairs, checked the back doorknob. No marks. Same thing on the front. No sign of forced entry. Her entire body slumped in relief.
“Thank you, Lord.”
Then she remembered.
“If you ever come and can’t get in, we’ll have a key hidden right here. Nobody will know about it but us.”
Piper flicked on the outside lights, unlocked the door and stepped onto the deck once more. She trod lightly across the deck, stopped in one corner. Her grandmother’s wishing well sat there, unused after the cold winter, cobwebs, dried leaves and dust
