Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-12 & 2 Novellas). Debbie Macomber

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joking, right?”

      “I hope so.” Bob sank down on one of the lounge chairs. “Can you believe it’s the middle of June already?” He sat upright with a startled look.

      “What’s wrong?”

      Bob glanced away and seemed embarrassed, as though he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Nothing,” he said, shaking off the question. “Just another one of life’s regrets. Let’s not discuss it.”

      Jack frowned, but if there was anything he understood it was regrets.

      “So—you’ve been here almost a year,” Bob said casually, reaching for his tea.

      Jack nodded. A year. Well, it would be in October. Busy as he was with the newspaper, the months had flown by. It seemed only a few weeks ago that he’d sat in Olivia’s courtroom that first time…. He was shocked to realize that six months had passed.

      “What do you think of Cedar Cove now?”

      “Hey,” Jack said with a grin. “It’s my kind of town.” Bob and Peggy had been raised in Cedar Cove. They’d graduated from high school together, and then Bob had been drafted and gone off to fight in Vietnam. He’d come home haunted by demons—memories and experiences he could scarcely speak of, even now. Those demons had led him to look for oblivion in the bottom of a bottle. Jack had faced his own demons from Nam and they, too, had led him to the deceptive gratifications of alcohol. He’d met Bob in a rehab center, and they’d struck up a friendship that had grown over the years. Although he had ten years’ sobriety now, the consequences of those hard-drinking years still lingered. Only now had Eric begun to trust him.

      “I thought we’d eat out on the patio tonight,” Peggy announced, joining the two men.

      That suited Jack just fine. After a week of intermittent rainfall, the evening was clear and warm. A soft breeze came off the water, and with it the faint scent of the sea.

      “So,” Peggy said, taking the wicker chair next to Bob. “How’s the paper doing?”

      “It’s thriving.” Jack was proud of that. He’d made a lot of changes in the last eight months, added a second edition each week and followed his instincts. One of his most popular innovations had come from Charlotte Jefferson. Her Seniors’ Page had become a huge hit with the community. Olivia’s mother was a natural. Her chatty column every Wednesday was full of tidbits about local happenings. If Mrs. Samuel’s grandson was visiting, Charlotte reported the news. If the Robertsons’ dog had puppies, she wrote about them, guaranteeing the litter good homes. She passed on recipes and some great old-fashioned household hints. Who would’ve guessed vinegar had so many uses? She wrote about the past, discussing local history, especially events that took place around World War II. And she threw in bits and pieces of her own wisdom.

      “What about you?” Peggy asked. “Are you thriving, too?”

      “Me?”

      “Are you happy?”

      “I’m sane and sober, and that’s about as good as it gets for me.”

      “What about Olivia?” Bob asked.

      His buddy would ask the one question he didn’t want to answer. Jack shrugged.

      “What kind of answer is that?” Peggy scolded. “A few weeks ago, you had lots to say about the judge.”

      “She’s in love with her ex-husband,” he said bleakly. He’d seen it the day Olivia returned home from her trip to California. Since then he’d only heard from her once, when she called to break their date for the following Wednesday. There’d been no contact between them after that. He sighed, remembering how she’d come back from the airport with her ex, the top down on a fancy red convertible, music blaring. They’d had eyes only for each other. Anyone looking at them would think they were lovers. Jack wasn’t a man who walked away from a challenge, but he was smart enough to avoid a losing proposition—like falling for a woman still involved with her ex.

      “I thought Stan remarried,” Bob said, turning to Peggy.

      “He did.”

      “That doesn’t change the way Olivia feels about him,” Jack insisted.

      “Did you ask her about it?”

      Jack shook his head. More than willing to move on to another subject, he said, “What do you hear from the kids?” Bob and Peggy had two children; Hollie, their oldest, lived in Seattle and their youngest, Marc, was in Kansas.

      “They’re both fine,” Peggy told him. “What do you hear from Eric?”

      His son didn’t make any effort to keep in touch with Jack, which he supposed was fair. For a good portion of Eric’s life, Jack had been absent, if not in body, then in spirit.

      “Not much,” Jack confessed.

      “When was the last time you talked to him?”

      Jack had to think about that. After their dinner with Olivia, he’d phoned to invite Eric to Cedar Cove, but his son had refused, offering a convenient excuse. He had a date. This wasn’t the first time Eric had mentioned the girl he was seeing. Shirley or Shelly—her name was something along those lines. It seemed Eric might be serious about this one, and Jack had made the mistake of saying so. He’d suggested it was time Eric thought about marrying and settling down. His son had nearly snapped his head off.

      There was a reason for Eric’s reactions. He couldn’t father children, due to the massive doses of drugs he’d been given as a child, and had never gotten around to telling Shirley…or Shelly, who apparently wanted a family. The conversation had ended on that sour note, and Jack hadn’t called him since.

      He would soon enough, but he needed to give Eric time to forgive him for his careless remark. He longed to forge a path to his son, not destroy the fragile groundwork that had painstakingly been laid.

      “Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” Peggy said, leaving the two of them. She returned a moment later, carrying out a large salad.

      “Let me help,” Jack said.

      “Nonsense.” Peggy waved aside his offer. “You two play cribbage. Bob’s been looking forward to it all day.”

      Jack was more than willing to comply. Bob had the cribbage board set up on the table, and Jack sat down opposite him, his back to the sea. He didn’t want to be distracted. Bob was a good player, quick and decisive, and Jack needed all his wits about him.

      “Is Peggy all right?” Jack asked after Bob had dealt the first hand.

      Bob put aside the deck and reached for the seven cards. “What makes you ask?”

      Jack wasn’t sure. Peggy was as warm and welcoming as ever, but he sensed that something was troubling her.

      Although he appeared to be studying his cards, Bob had the look of a man deep in thought.

      “That bad?” Jack teased.

      Bob frowned in confusion.

      “The

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