Far Harbor Page 5

  When Savannah laughed richly at that suggestion, Ida’s clenched shoulders relaxed and the blood flowed warmly back into her hands.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said as her mind cleared and her heart lifted. “Not that I ever had any doubts. In fact, anticipating your success, I bought you a little present.” She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a tapestry lighthouse tote bag.

  “Oh, I love it!”

  “There’s something inside,” Ida remembered.

  Savannah laughed again as she pulled out the message T-shirt. “Behind every successful woman is herself,” she read aloud.

  “And don’t you forget it,” Ida said briskly, pleased with the way Savannah was coming out of her recent divorce funk. “We Lindstrom women are tough cookies.” Although she was still furious at that shifty-eyed weasel her granddaughter had made the mistake of marrying, at least his behavior had brought Savannah home again, proving that every silver lining had a cloud around it. “They may be able to chew us up from time to time, but they can’t swallow….

  “We’ll have to call Raine right away,” Ida said decisively after grandmother and granddaughter had hugged. “And, of course, Gwen. So you can tell them the good news.”

  Everything was going to be fine. Her girls were back home again. All except Gwen, who would soon be back from science camp in time to start her senior year of high school. Even Lilith, after a lifetime of rebellion, appeared to be on the straight and narrow, happily married to Cooper Ryan and working at something she seemed to enjoy.

  Despite those recent annoying little memory glitches, life had never been better. Fretting about things she couldn’t control—such as getting older—was a waste of time and would accomplish nothing.

  As she found Gwen’s number in her address book and picked up the receiver, Ida put her concerns away and decided to let sleeping ducks lie.

  Five very long days later, Savannah sat on the bench in the lighthouse garden, running through the numbers again. She’d borrowed Raine’s laptop computer, hoping the fancy money-management program would make her prospects look more encouraging. It didn’t.

  “It doesn’t help that I keep expanding the original concept,” she muttered as she glared at the flashing cursor.

  John, who rode his bike to the lighthouse every day, was weeding nearby. His sunflower yellow T-shirt read Cultivate the Garden Within. Every time she’d seen Dan’s nephew he’d been wearing another message shirt, which had Savannah thinking that he and her grandmother would undoubtedly get along like gangbusters.

  “You’re unhappy,” he diagnosed.

  “Not unhappy.” Savannah sighed. “Just frustrated.”

  She took in the sight of the bunchberry he’d planted as a groundcover the first day she’d met him here at the lighthouse. The white blossoms looked like tiny umbrellas amidst the dark green foliage he’d promised would eventually spread all the way along the cliff.

  “That’s lovely.” There was something vastly soothing about the garden, which was why she’d chosen to work here today.

  “It’s going to be even better,” he assured her with the enviable confidence he seemed to possess regarding his horticultural work. “When summer ends, the flowers will turn to bright red berries that’ll attract more birds to your lighthouse.”

  If it was her lighthouse by then. Savannah shook her head to rid it of that depressing thought. Henry had begun to waffle about signing the final sales agreement, but she refused to consider the possibility of failure.

  “I like the idea of attracting birds,” she said as she watched a fat red-breasted robin energetically tug a worm from the moist ground.

  John rocked back on his heels. “Sometimes when I get worried and need to figure out an answer to a problem, I work in the garden and my brain works better,” he offered. “Even when I don’t get any answers, I don’t feel so bad.” He paused. “I have an extra pair of gloves.”

  Savannah immediately turned off the computer. “You’re on.” She spent the next hour attacking weeds, and while she didn’t come any closer to solving her financial problems, she discovered John was right: she did feel better.

  Despite her new-found garden therapy, Savannah’s stress level escalated as she continued to juggle figures and go around and around with Henry, who appeared to believe that his role in life was to make people—and her in particular—as miserable as possible. Whenever she could steal a free moment, she worked off her frustration in John’s garden. He seemed to enjoy her company, even after she’d mistaken a bed of newly sprouted seedlings for dandelions.

  “That’s okay,” he assured her easily, revealing no irritation that she’d destroyed an entire day’s work. “I can plant more.”

  She’d shown up the next morning with a Thermos of cold milk and a tin of crumbly, home-baked chocolate chunk cookies as an apology. John had taken one bite, then rolled his eyes.

  “These are the very best cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He flashed her a grin that reminded her of his uncle. “Any time you want to dig up more flowers, I won’t mind—so long as you keep bringing more cookies.”

  Savannah laughed and promised the cookies without the destruction. But the incident did give her an idea. After checking with the charge nurse at Evergreen to make sure Henry wasn’t on a restricted diet, she showed up at the nursing home with a tin of cookies still hot from the oven. It may just have been a coincidence, but that was the evening he finally agreed to her terms.

  Wanting to get the deal locked up before Henry changed his mind again, Savannah was at the legal offices of O’Halloran and O’Halloran first thing the next morning.

  The offices her sister shared with Dan were housed in a century-old building next to the ferry dock. The brick had been painted a soft gray-blue that reflected the water, and beneath the front windows scarlet geraniums cascaded from flower boxes she suspected were John’s contribution.

  A brass bell tied to the inside of the door jangled as she entered. Apparently the receptionist hadn’t arrived yet, because Raine came out of her office to greet Savannah.

  “Congratulations. I hear you’re now a lady of property.”

  “I will be as soon as I sign the final papers. I thought I’d go crazy when it looked as if Henry was going to back out.”

  “Henry’s an ornery old bird.” Raine shrugged. “I think he was really just trying to make you squirm. He’s an expert at that, of course. Hopefully getting out of that nursing home will give him a new lease on life.”

  “At least living with Gram won’t be boring.”

  “She’ll whip him into shape, all right,” Raine agreed. “I’ll go tell Dan you’re here.”

  “No need.” Dan appeared from the hallway around the corner. “I was on the phone, but I knew the minute Savannah walked in the door.”

  Since the offices faced the bay, Savannah knew he couldn’t have seen her walking across the street from where she’d parked her car in front of the Dancing Deer Dress Shoppe. “I hadn’t realized you were psychic.”

  “I’m not. I smelled the flowers and decided that either John’s expanded into indoor gardens or the most gorgeous lady in Coldwater Cove has decided to grace me with her presence.” He glanced over at Raine. “Present company excepted, of course.”

  “Of course,” Raine said with easy good humor. She’d never resented her sister’s beauty. To do so would be like the cool silver moon resenting the bolder, brighter sun for rising in a blaze of glory each morning. “Well, I’ve got some partnership papers for that software firm to write and a brief on Japanese timber sales to polish up, so I’d best get back to the salt mines. Congratulations, baby sister.”

  She hugged Savannah, then scooped up the yellow legal pad she’d carried into the reception area with her.

  “Congratulations,” Dan said. “I ran by Evergreen before breakfast this morning and got my client’s signature on the sales agreement.”

  “Thank you.” He’d promised to expedite matters when she’d called h
im at home last night with the news that his client had finally agreed to her terms, but she’d still worried that any delay might allow Henry to change his mind.

  “That’s my job,” he reminded her. “I’m sorry Henry gave you so many headaches. I tried to hurry him along, but I think the problem was that he was enjoying having you visit every day.”

  “If that’s his idea of enjoyment, he undoubtedly spends the morning craft hour pulling wings off butterflies.”

  “The old guy can be a bit of a challenge on occasion.”

  “Spoken exactly like a lawyer. Talk about mincing words,” she muttered.

  “I suppose we can all be accused of attorney-speak from time to time,” he admitted. “Speaking of which, do you know what you get when you cross the Godfather with a lawyer?”

  “No, but I’m afraid you’re going to tell me.”

  “An offer you can’t understand.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “But true,” he said good-naturedly. “Let me try another one,” he suggested as they passed Raine’s office. “Did you hear about the lady lawyer who dropped her briefs and became a solicitor?” He’d raised his voice just loud enough to ensure that his partner heard him.

  “Better be careful, Counselor,” Raine called out. “You’re skating perilously close to a charge of sexual harassment in the workplace.”

  Dan paused and stuck his head in her open doorway. “Hey, you know very well that we’re an equal opportunity law firm. Which means you’re welcome to take your best shot.”

  Knowing her sister, Savannah was not at all surprised when Raine proved ready for him. “Okay.” She folded her arms across the front of her charcoal gray blazer. “What do a male lawyer and a sperm have in common?”

  Dan rubbed his square chin. “I’ll bite.”

  A familiar competitive glint shone in Raine’s hazel eyes. Her smile was smug and claimed early victory. “Both have a one-in-three-million chance of becoming a human being.”

  “Bull’s-eye.” Dan clutched his heart and staggered against the wall. He glanced over at Savannah, who was beginning to enjoy herself. “Your sister is a cruel-hearted woman. I have no idea why my cousin seems so taken with her.”

  “Because Jack has very good taste,” Raine countered. “Which, if that atrocious tie is any example, is a great deal more than I can say for you.”

  “Hey, this tie makes a statement.” He turned toward Savannah. “What do you think?”

  Savannah chewed on a thumbnail lacquered in Sunset Coral as she studied him. What did she think? That the man was drop-dead gorgeous, with that thick chestnut hair that seemed perpetually tousled and blue eyes enlivened by dancing flecks that flashed like mica in the sunlight. His complexion was tanned a rich, burnished gold from days spent sailing on the sound, his skin taut over strong, masculine bones.

  His mouth was full, but roughly sculpted in a way that made it very much a man’s. When an errant, distant memory of long, slow, sensuous kisses stirred in some dark corner of her mind, Savannah’s hormones spiked.

  “I’m not sure I get the message,” she said as she took in the cartoon marsupials wearing somber black judicial robes.

  “I thought it’d be obvious. Maybe it’s a lawyer thing.” He sighed heavily. “It’s supposed to represent a kangaroo court.”

  Since the ridiculous tie was just about the single amusing thing about her life these days, Savannah didn’t censure her smile. “I think I like it.”

  “See?” He shot Raine a triumphant look. “Your sister approves of my sartorial taste. And she should know about style, having spent so many years in the playgrounds of the rich and famous.”

  “Last time I checked, money didn’t buy taste,” Raine argued.

  “And I wasn’t the one playing,” Savannah pointed out.

  “All the more reason to make up for lost time.” He winked at Raine, then they continued down the hall. “It’s a gorgeous day. After you sign the last of the papers, how about we pick up some lunch and go sailing?”

  “Perhaps your life has become so laid-back you can take a day off, but I’ve got work to do. I was intending to wade through paint chips and wallpaper samples during lunch.”

  “You have to eat.”

  “I packed a salad in an ice chest in the back of my car before I left the house this morning.” Raine wasn’t the only sister who could prepare ahead.

  “Rabbit food,” Dan scoffed dismissively. “You need red meat to keep your strength up, Savannah. I was thinking we might stop by Oley’s and pick up an order of ribs.”

  Savannah assured herself that it was only the mention of Oley Swenson’s barbecue—not the prospect of an afternoon sailing with Dan—that was proving unreasonably tempting. “Thanks anyway, but I think I’ll pass.”

  “Have you ever seen your lighthouse from the water?”

  Her lighthouse. Those were, Savannah thought, the most beautiful words in the English language. “I’ve seen it from the ferry lots of times.”

  “That’s only one view, coming across from Seattle. You really should see it from the strait as well. It gives you an entirely different perspective.

  “When I was a kid, overdosing on Horatio Hornblower novels, I used to imagine how relieved sailors coming in from the sea must have felt when they saw the light flashing, guiding them safely into the shallows of the cove. I also thought how exciting—and frightening—it must have been to sail back past it toward dangerous, open waters again.”

  “I’ve thought the same thing,” Savannah allowed as they entered an office papered in a cobalt blue that echoed the water outside the tall windows. The furniture was upholstered in a gray leather the color of a storm-tossed sea. “But as much as I’d enjoy seeing the lighthouse from that vantage point, I really can’t take the time. At least not now.”

  “You’ve got a rain check,” Dan said equably as he gestured her to a chair on the visitor’s side of an antique partner’s desk.

  While he opened a scuffed leather barrister’s bag to get the contract, Savannah took the opportunity to study the room in greater detail. One wall was taken up by bookshelves. A quick glance revealed several legal thrillers lurking among the leather-bound law books.

  Calligraphically prepared diplomas displayed in simple wood frames hung on another wall, along with lithographed copies of the Declaration of Independence and the Magna Carta. Keeping company with the august legal documents was a needlepoint sampler that read Please Don’t Tell My Mother I’m a Lawyer. She Thinks I Play the Piano in the Local Bordello.

  “My sister made that for me when I passed the bar,” he said when he saw her looking at it.

  Savannah would have had to be deaf not to hear the lingering pain in his voice. “You must miss her terribly.” She couldn’t imagine losing Raine. It would be easier to have her heart ripped out.

  “Every day.” Dan sighed, picked up a pen and began switching it from hand to hand. The light was gone from his eyes, almost, she thought, as if someone had pulled down a dark shade. “When I first came back home, right after the accident, I wasn’t sure I could take care of John. Not just physically, which, in the beginning, was difficult enough, but emotionally.

  “Never having been a parent myself, I worried that I might not have the instincts. Fortunately, Karyn and Richard did a great job of grounding their son, so mostly all I’ve had to do is sort of follow along and keep an eye out for the pitfalls.”

  “I have a feeling that you’re glossing over your efforts just a bit.”

  Savannah considered how, if Kevin had been in a similar situation, he would have been quick to take credit for John’s obvious sense of stability. Just as he’d taken credit for all her hard work and innovation in each of the resorts where they’d worked together, he in a series of upwardly mobile managerial positions, while she’d always been more than content to stay in the kitchen.

  “It couldn’t have been easy,” she said. “John’s a very intuitive, open-hearted person. If he hadn’t kn
own he could trust you to be there for him, he could have been devastated.”

  She knew, firsthand, how important it was during those tender growing-up years to have someone you could count on. Fortunately, while Lilith had proven all too fallible, Savannah had been doubly blessed in her sister and grandmother.

  “Things were admittedly a bit rocky in the beginning,” Dan allowed with what Savannah was beginning to realize was characteristic understatement. “But, as I said, his parents built a strong foundation and John’s a great kid. I only wish his mom could be here to see how well he’s doing.”

  “I’m certain she knows.”

  “I sure hope so.” The shutters lifted; a brief pain flashed in his eyes.

  “Well, whether he got it from his parents, or whether it’s inborn, his never-say-die mentality is definitely contagious,” Savannah said. “I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t let me attack weeds instead of your client this past week.”

  “Ah, yes.” The harsh lines bracketing either side of Dan’s mouth softened. “He mentioned something about you having developed a real knack for gardening.”

  “Since I don’t want to accuse your nephew of being a liar, I’ll just say that he’s overly optimistic. My weeding talents leave a great deal to be desired.”

  “Join the club. While I’m still permitted, with supervision, to do some planting, after I created a horticultural miracle last fall he took my hoe away from me.”

  “A miracle?”

  “See these hands?” He held them up for her perusal.

  “Yes.” When her unruly mind threw up a quick, hot fantasy of those long dark fingers, which could have belonged to a pianist, playing over her flesh, Savannah had to remind herself to breathe.

  “They single-handedly turned an entire bed of perennials into annuals.”

  Their shared laughter lightened the mood that had been threatening to turn gloomy. Dan exhaled another brief sigh, then, squaring his shoulders, slid the document across the desk toward her.