They managed to squash the bags in the backseat. Corrie didn’t tell Peggy what she’d bought. They resumed their easy camaraderie, discussing movies they’d recently seen and books they’d read and exchanging gossip of the unmalicious but still enjoyable variety.

“Thanks for coming with me. I appreciated the company,” Peggy said, parking in front of 50 Harbor to let Corrie out.

“Anytime,” Corrie said. “It was fun.” She started to walk away when Peggy called her back.

“Don’t forget your bags.”

“Oh, yes!” Corrie had nearly left them behind.

Roy, of course, was at the office, which was just as well. She dreaded telling him the only purchase she’d made was baby clothes—for a nonexistent baby. Even now, she wasn’t sure why she’d done it. Guiltily, she shoved the packages in the spare-bedroom closet.

The phone rang as she entered the kitchen, and a quick glance at caller ID told her it was Linnette’s cell. Hearing from her daughter in the middle of the week, let alone the middle of the day, was highly unusual. Linnette was often so busy at the clinic that she didn’t get home until six or seven at night. Thankfully Buffalo Valley had provided housing close by, so her daughter didn’t have far to go when she finished at the end of the day.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Corrie greeted her cheerfully. “Is the weather in North Dakota as nice as it is here?”

“Where were you?” Linnette asked. “I tried earlier and no one was home.”

“Shopping with Peggy. Is everything all right? Did you try your father at the office?”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dad. I wanted you.”

Corrie sat on the kitchen stool she kept near the phone. “I’m here now. What’s wrong, Linnette?”

Her question was met with silence. “I guess there isn’t any easy way to say this.”

“Say what?” Corrie tried to control the stomach-churning anxiety she immediately felt.

“I should’ve told you before and I didn’t, and then the longer I put it off, the harder it got, and now…now it’s going to come as a shock and I apologize. Please, please, don’t be mad at me.”

Inhaling deeply, Corrie said, “Linnette, of course I won’t be angry with you. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. In fact, this is really good. At least, I think it is.”

A tingling sensation went down Corrie’s spine. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” The response was half laugh and half sob.

“Oh, my goodness…” Corrie slid off the stool and stood upright. Excitement bolted through her—excitement followed by anxiety. Who was the father? Would Linnette, single and self-supporting, keep the baby? Somehow Corrie felt sure she would. “I must’ve known. Somehow I must’ve suspected. I was shopping with Peggy Beldon and I had this irrepressible urge to buy baby clothes.”

“Um, there’s more,” Linnette said.

“You’re having twins,” Corrie blurted out.

“No. I’m married.”

“Married.” For some reason, this second shock hit her harder than the first. “To whom?”

“Pete, of course.”

“Pete Mason? The guy we met at Christmas?”

“Yes.”

Pete had driven Linnette home so she could visit her family for the holidays. Corrie had liked him, but hadn’t sensed that he and Linnette were anywhere close to marriage.

“Do you love him?” Corrie’s biggest fear was that her daughter had married on the rebound.

“Oh, yes… We got married when we were driving home. We stopped in Vegas on December twenty-ninth. We didn’t plan to get married. I know it sounds insane, but we could only find one hotel room, and then Pete said we should take it even if it just had one bed. I joked that I wasn’t that kind of girl and he said, Well, why don’t we get married, and I said, Let’s do it, and we did.” Linnette hadn’t paused for breath, and this all came out in a rush. “I think I must’ve gotten pregnant that night.”

Corrie needed to sit down again. Looking at the calendar, although it hardly seemed necessary, she realized her daughter was five months along. “You mean you’ve known all this time and didn’t tell me?”

“Yes. Mom, I’m sorry. I wanted to say something but I was afraid you and Dad would be upset with us, so like I said, I kept putting it off.”

“I’m not upset. I’m thrilled!”

“Will you tell Daddy for me?”

“Of course.”

Linnette hesitated. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”

“No, sweetheart, I think he’ll be overjoyed. Can I tell Mack and Gloria?”

“Oh, of course. Except…Mack already knows.”

“Mack knows.” Corrie found it hard to believe her children had been able to keep this secret—hard to believe and a little hurtful.

Swallowing her disappointment, she asked, “What about Gloria?”

“I haven’t told her yet. Do you want to do it or should I?”

“I will,” Corrie said. It would be a good—and legitimate—reason to visit her.

Linnette expelled her breath loudly. “I feel so much better, Mom. I can’t tell you what a relief it is finally to let you know about Pete…and the baby.”

They spoke for another ten or fifteen minutes, and by the time Corrie hung up, any hurt or disappointment had disappeared. She felt…ecstatic. Okay, so she’d hoped to arrange the perfect wedding for her daughter someday, but she reminded herself that the marriage was more important than the wedding. She wondered if this baby would be a boy or a girl; Linnette had chosen not to know. So…yellow was the right color, at least for now.

Caught up in her musings, she did some housework and prepared a special dinner of pork tenderloin and sautéed spinach, Roy’s favorite meal.

“Hello, darling,” she said when he walked into the house shortly after six. She met him in the living room, and slipped her arms around his waist.

Roy eyed her suspiciously. “Okay, what did you buy? How much is it going to set us back?”

“Roy,” she chided. “I spent less than two hundred dollars.”

“On what?”

“Baby clothes.”

“Baby clothes?” he repeated, his forehead creased.

“Yes, Grandpa. We’re going to have a baby in…oh, late September.”

“We are?” He looked as if he needed to sit down. “Who’s having the baby?”

Corrie started to laugh. “You’ll never guess. Linnette and Pete, and before you say anything, they’re married.”

Eleven

Gloria Ashton paced the small living room of her apartment as she waited for her dinner date. She’d gone out with the doctor only once before, nearly three years ago. From her point of view, the evening had been a disaster. Afterward, Chad had made numerous attempts to ask her out a second time, but Gloria had declined repeatedly.

Just thinking about that long-ago date made her cheeks burn with mortification. She’d spent the night with him. One date, and she’d fallen into bed without a single thought to the consequences. She’d never done that before or since and would never do it again. Such irrational, impulsive behavior went against everything Gloria believed. In her opinion, lovemaking should be reserved for committed couples. All she could attribute her conduct to was the fact that she was lost, lonely and unsettled. She’d moved to Washington State in search of her birth parents shortly after the death of the two people who’d adopted, raised and loved her. She was alone and vulnerable, and for reasons she still couldn’t fathom, she’d lowered her natural reserve with this stranger. Afterward she’d felt embarrassed and frankly humiliated by her own behavior, so she’d refused to see him again.

Then she’d learned that Chad intended to move away from Cedar Cove and she realized she didn’t want him to go. Overwhelmed by unfamiliar emotions, she recognized that she didn’t want to lose him but equally disturbing was her fear of what might happen if she allowed him back in her life. Before she could properly assess her feelings, she’d accepted this date. Their second in three years.

In retrospect, she thought she understood why she’d reacted to him the way she had that first night. Chad had been wonderful, listening to her, offering encouragement and support. That time with him had been like finding a lifeboat after losing the safety of the ship. She’d told him everything, about the death of her parents, the search for her birth family, her doubt and anguish. She’d bared her soul to this man who was virtually a stranger.

The doorbell chimed. Gloria closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let Chad into her apartment.

“Hi,” he said with an easy grin. He was casually but smartly dressed in a well-fitting beige sports jacket and a blue shirt that reflected the color of his eyes—deep blue with dark lashes. Gloria knew other women found him attractive, too. But his appeal went far beyond his all-American good looks. He exuded confidence and genuine charisma.

Gloria managed a return smile. “Hi. Would you like to come in for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” He stepped inside the apartment and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the sofa arm. “I’m glad you agreed to dinner.”

A thousand times since, she’d wondered what had possessed her to say yes. He frightened her, intrigued her and mystified her, all at once. She’d never wanted to see him again and yet she was convinced to the very marrow of her bones that if he walked out of her life, she’d always regret letting him go.

Her hands felt moist and she rubbed her palms against her thighs.

“I’m not going to bite, you know,” Chad said, grinning again.

She blinked. “Do I look that tense?”

“Yes,” he said with a chuckle. “Sit down.”

Being a good hostess demanded that she ask him if he’d like a drink first. “Wine? I have both red and white. The white’s from New Zealand. Roy recommended it.” She couldn’t quite think of him—or refer to him—as her father.

“That sounds nice.”

Gloria was grateful for something to do. She made a beeline for the kitchen and got the bottle of sauvignon blanc from the fridge. Taking two glasses from the cupboard next to her sink, she deftly filled them and carried them into the living room.

Chad, watching the view from her front window, turned as she approached.

Gloria handed him a glass and squared her shoulders. “I’d like to start over, if we could.”

“Start over? You mean you want to forget our first date?”

She didn’t blush often, but she did now. Lowering her gaze to the carpet, she nodded. “Please.”

Holding his wineglass, Chad turned back to the window that overlooked Sinclair Inlet. “I don’t know if I can. I treasure that night. I always will.”

“It won’t be repeated, if that’s what you’re thinking.”