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“The twenty-third.”
This was too weird. They’d each been married on the same day and in the same year—to someone else.
“Children?” he asked.
“Two—a boy, Scott, and a girl, Jay Lynn. Scottie lives in Cedar Cove, like I said, and teaches at the high school. Jay Lynn’s married and the mother of two. She’s currently a stay-at-home mom. What about you?”
“One daughter, Megan. She works at the framing shop down by the waterfront.”
“Oh, my goodness! Scottie just had her frame a picture I gave him of his great-grandparents. It was taken in the 1930s on the family farm in Kansas.”
Their lives had intersected more than once. And in the last few years, she’d visited town to see her family; they could have run into each other at any time, yet never had.
“So you’re the sheriff these days,” Faith said.
“Yeah, Cedar Cove’s always been my home. I never wanted to live anywhere else. There aren’t that many of us from our graduating class around anymore.”
“I heard about Dan Sherman’s death,” Faith told him. “Poor Grace. Scottie called me when his body was discovered.”
“That was a rough one,” Troy said. He knew Dan but they’d never been close friends. “Grace is remarried—to a local rancher.” He paused. “You’d like Cliff. He’s a down-to-earth, no-nonsense kind of guy.”
“What about Olivia?”
As he recalled, Faith and Olivia had been fairly good friends in high school.
“I always meant to keep in touch with Olivia, but life sort of crowded in.”
“Olivia married a guy called Stan Lockhart when she graduated from college. They were divorced the year their son died.”
“I knew she’d become a judge but I hadn’t heard that she’d lost a child. Or that her marriage broke up.”
“It all happened more than twenty years ago now. You never attended any of the class reunions, did you?” He should know; he’d been to every one.
“No. What about you?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Troy would’ve preferred to avoid them, but it was hard since he lived in town. And he’d been one of the senior class officers, so people expected him to plan the event. Against his will, he’d done it for most of the reunions, thanks mainly to Sandy and her organizational skills. His daughter had helped with the last reunion. He’d rather have stayed home.
“You were going to be a nurse, weren’t you?”
“I was … am,” she said, correcting herself. “Although I don’t work in the medical field now. I burned out about ten years ago.” She hesitated, as if uncertain she should continue. “I write a little but it’s no big deal. Articles about health, that sort of thing.”
“Really? I’m impressed.” Troy had never been good at putting his thoughts on paper. Other than crime reports, of course, and that was a matter of getting the facts and stating them clearly.
“Don’t be. I dabble at it.” He could almost see her shrug. “I guess it’s a way to use some of my medical background.”
They chatted for another few minutes and then there didn’t seem to be anything more to say. Troy searched for something to keep Faith on the line. All he knew was that he didn’t want to break the connection for fear it would be half a lifetime before they spoke again. If ever … “How often do you get to Cedar Cove these days?”
“Not a lot. But Scottie’s been encouraging me to move back to town and I’m considering it.” She paused. “Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking,” he said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “that we could get together the next time you do.”
“Okay,” she said immediately.
“We could have coffee and pie at the Pancake Palace.” They used to go there on dates, only it’d been a soda and fries.
“Not Coke and French fries?”
“You remember that, too?” he asked.
“Of course I do. We always shared both. I liked more salt than you did.”
“Do you know when you’ll be in town?” he pressed. “I could come next Saturday,” she said, “if that’s convenient.”
It was convenient. In fact, it couldn’t have been better.
Nine
This was the last day of Anson Butler’s two-week leave from army training. In the morning he’d be flying to the east coast for advanced study in computer technology, working with army intelligence. Allison Cox was proud of him, proud of his success and determination. And she dreaded not being able to see him for another eight weeks.
Her parents had been wonderful to him. Together, as a family, they were sending Anson off with a big barbecue dinner. Even Eddie, her annoying younger brother, had helped decorate the patio with streamers and balloons. All their friends from school would be there, even the ones who’d believed Anson had been responsible for the fire that burned down The Lighthouse restaurant. He’d forgiven them, and if Anson could, then so could she.
Allison had baked a cake that afternoon and was putting the finishing touches on it—smoothing out the chocolate frosting, adding candied flowers. After that, she’d go and pick up Anson at his mother’s place.
“You invited Mrs. Butler, didn’t you?” her mother asked.
Allison nodded, although she knew even before issuing the invitation that Cherry Butler would refuse. The truth was, she’d never been much of a mother. “Cherry said she’d think about it.” Allison would definitely prefer it if his mother decided not to come. Cherry’s presence would be uncomfortable and, especially if she drank, she was almost guaranteed to embarrass her son.
The kitchen door opened and her father came in from the garage. “Looks like there’s a party going on here,” he teased.
“How’d it go with Allan Harris?” her mother asked, referring to a local attorney who’d asked to meet with him, despite the fact that this was Sunday afternoon.
Allison’s parents exchanged a brief kiss.
Her father started to loosen his tie. “Martha Evans died last night.”
Her mother’s face went soft with sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Rosie, she was more than ninety years old and ready to go.”
“You’re the executor of her estate?”
Zach nodded. “Allan asked me to notify Martha’s family, none of whom live in town. They’ll be making the funeral arrangements.”
Allison watched as her father sighed. “Martha’s lived on her own all these years. Pastor Flemming’s the one who found her body. He’d been going over there once or twice a week to check on her.”
“He’s a good man.”
Allison liked Pastor Flemming, too. Everyone did.
“Charlotte Rhodes has offered to organize the wake.”
“When will Martha’s family—”
Her mother didn’t get a chance to finish the question before Eddie shouted through the open sliding glass door. “Should I light the barbecue?”
“Not yet,” Zach answered. “I want to change clothes first.”
“Eddie!” Allison cried, irritated by her brother’s impatience. “I haven’t even gone to pick up Anson yet.”
“All right, all right. I was just trying to help.”
“We appreciate that, Eddie,” Rosie said, mixing chopped green pepper and tomatoes into the lettuce greens. She turned to Allison. “Perhaps you should drive to Anson’s now.”
“In a minute,” Allison said, arranging tiny silver pearls on the border of Anson’s cake.
“Be sure and let his mother know she’s welcome to join us.”
“I will,” Allison promised. With a last critical look at the cake, she collected her purse and the car keys and headed out the door.
Anson’s mother lived in a trailer court off Lighthouse Road. Allison remembered the first time she’d met Cherry Butler, who’d been if not hostile, certainly unwelcoming. Even she—his mother—had believed Anson was responsible for the fire.
Anson’s disappearance had been difficult for Allison. She hadn’t known where he was, whether he was safe, what he was doing. To learn that he’d enlisted in the army—well, that had come as a complete shock.
Allison pulled into the trailer park, following the dirt road to the last single-wide trailer at the back of the lot. When Anson didn’t step outside after a minute or so, she turned off the engine and climbed out.
Before she could walk up the three steps, the door opened and Cherry Butler stood in the entrance. She wore a short skirt and a skin-tight sweater. Her hair had been dyed coal-black. Leaning against the door jamb, she held a cigarette loosely in one hand and glared at Allison. Slowly she raised her cigarette to her crimson lips and inhaled.
“Anson’s not here,” she announced when she’d finished blowing the smoke upward.
“Oh.”
“Don’t look so worried.” Cherry seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “He’s with Shaw. He should be back any minute.”
Shaw was one of Anson’s best friends and her friend, too, and she realized that Anson would want some private time with his buddy before he left.
“He did it for you, you know.” Cherry puffed at her cigarette again. “I didn’t want my son in the military. He knows that. Some recruiter fed him a crock and he believed it. Now see what’s happened.”
“Anson told me he liked the military.”
“Sure he does. You’d like it, too, if you could hide away all safe and sound while the police are searching for you.”
Allison stared up at his mother and wished she knew what to say. A moment passed in awkward silence.
Then, gathering her courage, Allison resolved to speak her mind. “You’re Anson’s mother.” She took a step closer. “You should be proud of him, Mrs. Butler—”
“Didn’t I tell you the first time you came by that I ain’t never been a Mrs. Anybody?”
“Ms. Butler.” Allison tried again. “I meant what I said. Anson’s the only one in his basic training class who was selected for this specialized course. He’s smart and … and … I love him. You might think eighteen’s too young to understand about love, but I know what my heart feels.”
Cherry Butler exhaled a thin line of smoke. “Listen, Abby.”
“Allison!”
“Whatever. You just pine your little heart out for my son all you want. He’s leaving, and my guess is he’ll find some other girl soon enough. Men are like that, so do yourself a favor and forget about my son.”
“Forget Anson,” Allison repeated incredulously. “I could never do that.”
Cherry laughed. “Suit yourself. But take my word for it—he’ll break your heart. He’s no different from any other man. Look at me. I was such an idiot, I actually thought his father would marry me when I told him I was pregnant.” She paused to take another drag on her cigarette. “Couldn’t do it, though, ’cause he already had a wife.”
“Anson isn’t like that.”
“Believe what you want.” She shrugged carelessly. “One thing I’ll say about Anson. He’s got his daddy’s brains. Sure as hell didn’t get ’em from me.”
Allison badly wanted this evening to be special for Anson. She took a deep breath. “It would mean a great deal to Anson if you’d come to the party.” She loved Anson, so she was willing to put aside her own preferences. If, despite everything, he wanted his mother there—and he did—Allison would try to persuade her.
“Party, is it?” She cocked her eyebrows as she flicked the lit cigarette onto the dirt road.
“A farewell party,” she elaborated.
Cherry shook her head. “You won’t need me for that.”
“Anson would like you there,” she said. “Please, Mrs.—Cherry.”
Again his mother declined, shaking her head. “I got things to do.”
“What could be more important than sending Anson off to his new course?” she asked, not understanding how his mother could feel so little pride or concern.
Allison glanced up as a car came toward the trailer, leaving behind a trail of dust. She recognized Shaw’s old Chevy Malibu. He dropped Anson off, waved to Allison, and pulled out again. They’d see him later at the party.
“Sorry I’m late,” Anson said, smiling at Allison and then his mother.
“I was just inviting your mother to join us,” Allison said pointedly.
“And I was just telling your girlfriend I got better things to do than go to some rich man’s house and make nice.”
“It won’t hurt my feelings if you’d rather stay here,” Anson said, not meeting his mother’s eyes.
“I didn’t figure it would,” Cherry told him.
Allison felt him stiffen at that response. Then he turned deliberately away. “Come on, Allison, let’s get out of here.”
“Bye-bye,” Cherry said with a flippant wave. She moved inside the trailer and pulled the door shut.
As soon as his mother was gone, Anson cast Allison an apologetic look. “How long did I keep you waiting?”
“A couple of minutes, that’s all.”
“Did she get on your case?”
