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“She thinks Memorial Day is perfect.” Maryellen held back a smile. She suspected her mother was just plain relieved that she and Jon had actually decided to tie the knot. Since they already had a child together, a ceremony was long past due, in Grace Sherman’s opinion.
“You’re sure you don’t mind not having a big fancy wedding?”
Maryellen shook her head. She opened the refrigerator and took out a tall pitcher of iced tea. She’d had all the glamour and glitter with her first marriage. The wedding had been lovely, the marriage itself anything but. She’d been young and naive; the divorce, a year later, had left her reeling emotionally for a long time.
Twelve years after that, when she’d met Jon, she’d still been frightened of falling in love again. In the beginning, she’d spurned him, insulted him and did everything she could think of to keep him out of her life. She felt mortified now when she thought back on everything she’d said and done.
Jon got two glasses from the cupboard and set them on the counter. “You’re not getting any bargain in the husband department, you know?”
The anger that flared in her was too hot to be denied. “If you ever say that to me again, I swear I’ll…I’ll make you suffer.”
A smile briefly softened Jon’s sharp features. He wasn’t a handsome man. He was tall and long-limbed with dark hair and intense brown eyes. And he was quite possibly the most talented photographer she’d ever encountered. His work hung in one of the best Seattle galleries and his name was fast gaining recognition.
“You know everything now,” he said and lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.
“You know everything about me, too,” she reminded him.
They both had their secrets, painful bits and pieces from their pasts. Now they had each other and, for the first time since her divorce, Maryellen felt she could heal the unresolved griefs of that marriage. She knew it was their pasts that had kept them apart. Despite everything, they’d been drawn toward each other from the very beginning, but the secrets they’d so desperately wanted to hide had almost torn them apart.
“You’re not the one with a prison record,” Jon muttered.
Clasping his hand, Maryellen raised it to her lips. “I consider it one of my life’s greatest blessings that I’ll be your wife. Until I met you I was in prison, too-a prison of my own making.” That might sound melodramatic, but she meant every word.
His smile was enough to brighten the kitchen, and she slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face against him. “The truth is, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
His arms tightened around her as she felt a sigh rumble through his chest. “It’s a little silly, don’t you think, you living here until after the wedding?”
“Perhaps, but I prefer to wait.” Maryellen had made too many mistakes, and with this marriage, she wanted to do everything right. When she came to him on their wedding night, she wanted it to be special.
“We have a child together, so it’s not as if…” His voice trailed off.
She tilted her head to look up at him, unsure how to say what was in her heart. “Do you mind terribly much?”
“I mind like hell, but I can wait if it means that much to you.”
She nodded and then kissed his jaw to let him know she appreciated his patience. Jon tangled his fingers in her dark hair as he pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted his passion and his desire, and her resolve weakened. This was all so new and exciting. Their physical need for each other had always been explosive, their hunger undeniable.
Suddenly Katie let out a wail from the back bedroom. Jon sighed and broke off the kiss.
By the time Maryellen reached Katie’s room, her daughter was standing up in her crib, both arms raised to her mother. Maryellen lifted her out and, after changing Katie’s diaper, carried her into the kitchen and placed her in the high chair. Her afternoon snack of juice and an arrowroot cracker was already waiting for her.
Awake now and in a good mood, Katie grabbed her juice cup and eagerly brought it to her mouth. She took a noisy slurp, then banged the cup against the plastic tray.
“Every time I look at her, I feel a sense of wonder,” Jon said and squatted down so he was eye-level with his daughter. “You’re Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?”
Katie rewarded him with a broad four-tooth grin.
Jon automatically retrieved his camera from the counter and started snapping pictures.
“Jon.” Maryellen laughed, unable to stop herself. He was so predictable. When she’d first begun working with him at the Harbor Street Art Gallery, he’d asked her out a dozen times. Maryellen had refused all his invitations. She hadn’t wanted a man in her life. Later she’d succumbed-and soon afterward she’d discovered to her shock that she was pregnant. She’d made every effort to keep Jon out of her child’s life. And hers…
Like a lot of other women, she’d chosen to be a single mother. Not until Katie was born had she come to realize how much her daughter needed a father and how much she herself wanted and needed Jon’s help in rearing their child. Then it seemed too late. While Jon obviously loved their daughter, he wanted little or nothing to do with her.
When he’d finished taking photographs of Katie, Jon focused the camera on her. Before Maryellen could react he’d snapped several pictures. When he’d first turned his camera on her, early in their relationship, she’d felt both self-conscious and flattered; now she simply trusted him, never protesting when he aimed his Nikon at her, no matter how unexpected the moment might be. In many ways Jon was most comfortable behind the camera’s lens. It was through photography that he revealed his personality and emotions.
“I want you and Katie with me as soon as possible,” he said when he’d rewound the film and removed the cartridge.
“It won’t be long. Two weeks.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to change his mind. “We’ve waited this long, I don’t suppose another two weeks will kill me.”
“The anticipation is half the pleasure.”
He growled something she couldn’t decipher. She could guess, though, and it made her smile.
“I thought we could ask Pastor Flemming to officiate.” Maryellen didn’t attend church regularly, but her mother’s best friend, Olivia Lockhart, had recently married Jack Griffin, and the Methodist minister had performed the ceremony. She’d found it deeply moving.
“What about Judge Lockhart-or Griffin, I guess?”
“She’s using both names,” Maryellen said.
Jon nodded.
“I-I’d like a religious service.” Olivia was a longtime family friend, but Maryellen had already decided against a civil wedding. When she spoke her vows, she was committing herself, before God and the community, to love Jon for the rest of her life.
Jon’s eyes narrowed. “You want to be married in a church? You’re sure?”
“Either at the Methodist Church or perhaps on your property, if that’s all right?” Jon had inherited the land from his grandfather and had built a beautiful two-story house there. The acreage overlooked Puget Sound, with Mount Rainier as a backdrop.
“It’s fine,” he said. “What about the reception?”
“At the house, too.” All at once she wondered if she was asking too much of him. “I don’t imagine we’ll have many guests, just family and a few friends. All we’d need to serve is wedding cake and champagne. If the weather cooperates, we could be married outside.” With the rhododendrons, many of which grew wild on the property, and the azaleas in bloom, the place would be stunning.
He nodded. “Perhaps we should serve a few hors d’oeuvres. I can easily prepare them a day or two before.”
“Jon…”
“A friend of mine can do the pictures, but I want to take the ones of you myself.”
Maryellen could tell he was warming to the subject of their wedding. “Can we put all this together in two weeks?” she asked.
Jon didn’t hesitate. “Of course we can.” At her delighted smile, he added, “Any other requests?”
She had one, but wasn’t sure how to ask.
“What?” The question was wary, as if he sensed her mood.
“The guest list…”
“How many?”
“It’s not the number. Mom and my sister and a few friends, but there are a couple of people I’d like to invite and I don’t know if you’d approve.”
Katie squealed and dropped the heavy-bottomed cup on her tray.
Jon kissed Maryellen’s temple. “You know there’s almost nothing I can refuse you. Who do you want to invite?”
She leaned into him, not wanting to see his face when she told him. “Your father and stepmother.” Jon had only recently revealed how his parents had chosen to protect his younger brother at his expense. They had lied on the witness stand and, as a result, Jon had been convicted of dealing drugs. He’d served seven years in prison. Not once in all those years or the years since had he spoken to either his father or his stepmother.
Jon tensed and slowly released Maryellen. “No. They are no longer part of my life. They cast me aside and-”
“You’re all they have left.” His brother had died a tragic death and Maryellen was convinced that his family regretted what they’d done, both in betraying Jon and in not forcing his brother to face the consequences of his crime.
Jon clasped her shoulders hard, almost hurting her with the fervor of his emotions. “We will never speak of this again, understand? I have no family other than you and Katie.” Taking a shuddery breath, he let her go.
She wanted to argue and longed to help heal the relationship between Jon and his family, but she could see he wasn’t ready. His parents had a granddaughter they knew nothing about. Surely that was an opportunity for new beginnings. Still, it wasn’t Maryellen’s place to step in, especially since Jon’s feelings on the subject were this adamant.
“What about a honeymoon?” Jon asked. “Nothing fancy, but someplace we can get away for a night or two.”
“You want a honeymoon?” Maryellen had been so involved with plans for her move and for the actual wedding, she hadn’t given a honeymoon any thought.
“Damn straight I want a honeymoon.”
“What about Thyme and Tide?” Bob and Peggy Beldon’s bed-and-breakfast was said to be the best in town.
Jon shook his head. “I already looked into that, but they aren’t taking guests until this murder is solved.”
“Oh…” That was a disappointment.
“How about a night in Seattle? Just the two of us. Your mother will take Katie, won’t she?”
Maryellen laughed softly. “In a heartbeat.”
“Seattle, then?”
Maryellen nodded.
“The honeymoon will be the very best part.” Jon kissed her nose, and Katie giggled as if she’d never seen anything funnier. “That amuses you, does it?” Jon said, smiling. “I guess I see your point.”
“We’re going to have a beautiful wedding,” Maryellen said with certainty. The prospect of it made this chaos of packing and moving seem worthwhile. Within a couple of weeks she’d be Jon’s wife. The three of them would be a family.
Chapter Four
Charlotte Jefferson dressed nervously for her court appearance. She’d spent many an afternoon in the Kitsap County Courthouse, proudly watching her only daughter officiate as a family court judge. In Charlotte’s opinion, her daughter was one of the wisest judges in the entire state. She got a thrill just watching Olivia mete out decisions, looking so official in her black robe.
This afternoon, however, Charlotte wouldn’t be in Olivia’s courtroom but in Judge Robson’s. She wouldn’t be alone, either. Together with several of her dearest friends, she’d be facing the consequences of civil disobedience. Still, serving time in the slammer, if it came to that, would be a small price to pay if her actions got the town council to finally bring a health clinic to Cedar Cove.
Laura, Bess and the others, including Ben Rhodes, were scheduled to meet her in the foyer outside Judge Robson’s courtroom at one o’clock.
Charlotte donned her best Sunday dress, complete with the Easter hat she’d purchased back in 1966. It was a broadbrimmed yellow one with a single white plume tucked in the satin band. If Judge Robson decided to incarcerate her and the others, she intended to walk into that jail cell as finely dressed as she would’ve been for any church service.
Olivia and Jack didn’t seem to think a prison term was likely, but Charlotte had heard rumors about Judge Robson. He was supposed to be much more by-the-book than Olivia, more of a hard-liner, and-again according to rumor-fond of making an example of the occasional miscreant.
The doorbell chimed and Harry, her cat, leapt down from the foot of her bed with an uncharacteristic display of energy and trotted into the living room. Since Olivia and Jack were out of town on their honeymoon, Charlotte wondered who it might be. Embarrassment had prevented her from asking Justine, her granddaughter, to accompany her. Olivia, of course, was well aware of the entire situation, unhappily so. But Charlotte refused to let the rest of her family and friends know, although it was impossible to keep such news completely quiet.
The peephole in the front door answered her question. Ben Rhodes stood on the other side, looking as dapper and debonair as ever. Despite her age, her heart did a tiny flipflop at the sight of him. After all these years as a widow, she’d assumed she was too old and set in her ways to fall in love, but Ben had shown her that even long-held assumptions could be wrong.
“Ben!” She unbolted the four dead bolt locks on her front door. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, although she was more than glad to see him. “We’re supposed to meet at the courthouse, remember?”
“I know, but I thought I’d escort my favorite gal into court. Are you ready?”
Charlotte straightened the skirt of her floral dress, feeling, for just a second, like the heroine in a 1950s musical. Ben made the whole mess seem like an adventure rather than a scandal-or worse. “How do I look?”
A smile lazily crossed Ben’s full mouth. At times it was difficult to forget that he wasn’t really Cesar Romero, the wonderful Cuban actor. In her opinion, Ben could have been the other man’s double. “You look lovely,” he told her.
But adventure or not, Charlotte couldn’t quite control her nervousness. “Oh, dear…I just don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”
Ben gently patted her hand. “I don’t believe the council wants that kind of negative publicity. I can just imagine what the Seattle newspapers would say about a town punishing a handful of senior citizens because we were demonstrating for health care.”
“Unlawful assembly,” Charlotte muttered under her breath. “I, for one, am willing to serve my time if that’s what it takes to wake this town up.” Just being with Ben strengthened her resolve. He made her feel brave, helped her stand up for her principles and act on the power of her convictions.
“I completely agree with you. However…” He hesitated and then forcefully expelled his breath. “I don’t think we need to worry about serving jail time. We’ll probably just be fined.”
Charlotte just couldn’t be sure. She was worried, especially considering Judge Robson’s reputation. Would she be viewed as the ringleader? She felt particularly anxious about her friends, who’d stood loyally by her when she defied Sheriff Davis.
“I’ve hired an attorney,” Ben informed her. Earlier Ben had agreed to represent them in court, but apparently he’d changed his mind.
Charlotte hadn’t wanted to involve lawyers. For one thing, they charged an arm and a leg, and for another, whatever lawyer Ben had chosen was bound to say something to Olivia when she returned. Charlotte wanted Olivia to know as little as possible, difficult though that would be. She’d hoped to hold down the gossip.
“Sharon Castor said she’d meet us at the courthouse.”
“Not Sharon Castor,” Charlotte cried. The attorney was frequently in Olivia’s courtroom. In fact, Sharon had recently represented Rosemary Cox in her divorce case. Charlotte had been present when her daughter had handed down one of her most controversial joint-custody decisions-a decision that, Charlotte believed, had led to the couple’s reconciliation.
“Oh, dear,” she said and sighed. “We might as well go.” She went into the bedroom for her overnight case, which contained her medications and night cream, and reached for her jacket. Just in case…The day was cool, and from everything she’d read, jail cells were notoriously drafty. She glanced around her bedroom one last time. Once she’d received her sentence, if the worst happened, she’d contact Justine and ask her to take care of Harry.
“Charlotte,” Ben said, shaking his head as she entered the living room. “You aren’t going to need a suitcase.”
“Don’t be so sure,” she countered grimly. “Suppose Judge Robson decides to make an example of me. I want to be ready.” She’d long been a believer in preparing for the worst-and hoping for the best.
Ben tried to argue with her, but she refused to change her mind. In the end, he placed her suitcase in the trunk of his car.
When they arrived at the courthouse, Helen, Laura and Bess were already gathered in the foyer outside Judge Robson’s courtroom. The three women rushed frantically to Charlotte’s side.
“I’m telling you right now, no one’s going to do a body search on me and live to tell about it,” Bess declared. She raised her hands in the familiar karate posture. Their entire Senior Center had taken self-defense lessons a few years back and Bess had faithfully attended every class.
“Have you been watching those Karate Kid videos again?” Charlotte muttered.
Bess glared at her. “I’m not joking, Charlotte.”
