LITMIR.BIZ

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      “I’m here,” she murmured. “Just thinking.”

      “Why not come visit me?” Piper pushed.

      Ashley could picture exactly how Serenity Bay would look. The water always seemed darker, deeper in autumn. The sky switched to a richer shade of cerulean. The hills cloaked their rolling sides in the finest burnt orange, fiery red and forest green.

      And the people—she doubted many of them would know about her broken engagement, even though Serenity Bay was so small everybody knew everyone else’s business.

      “Rowena’s coming down for the Labor Day long weekend,” Piper wheedled. “We’d have a chance to reconnect.”

      The last weekend of summer. It was too tempting.

      “Okay I’ll come,” Ashley agreed. “But just for a few weeks. I want to work, Pip. I don’t want to be one of the idle rich.”

      The snort of disbelief carried clearly down the line.

      “Like that would happen, Ms. ‘Frenetic Pace’ Adams. When can I expect you?”

      Ashley glanced around. There was nothing to hold her here.

      “A week—no, two. The doctor said I’ll need a few days for my ankle to strengthen. It will take me about five days to drive there. Say…two weeks from today?” she suggested.

      “Yes!” Piper cheered. “I can hardly wait.”

      “Listen, I know you’re busy. I don’t want to interfere with your work there, or get in your way.”

      “You won’t. The busiest part of the summer is over. It went better than we could have imagined. Now if I could just get my winter plans to work.”

      “Winter plans?” Ashley yawned, suddenly tired.

      “You’re exhausted. I can tell.” Piper chuckled. “Never mind my brilliant ideas. I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. Go rest, Ash. Dream of all the things we’ll do together once you get here.”

      “Yes. It’ll be great.” But she didn’t hang up. Instead Ashley clung to the phone, needing to share what lay so heavily on her heart. “What’s wrong with me, Pip?” she finally whispered.

      “Absolutely nothing,” her friend stoutly insisted. “You just made a mistake.”

      “Two of them. I thought I knew Parker. And yet I had no idea that he was in love with someone else.”

      “He should have said something earlier.” Piper’s voice wasn’t forgiving.

      “I should have listened better.”

      “Does it matter now? Your engagement to Parker only lasted a couple of days before you learned the truth and corrected things. It’s not your fault. He wasn’t honest about his feelings for someone else.”

      “Maybe. But what about Kent? I thought I could trust him. I thought he was everything I wanted in a husband.” She hated saying it out loud. It sounded so silly, but why deny the truth when Piper knew it anyway. “All he wanted was my money, Pip.”

      “I’m sure that isn’t so. But even if it is, he’s gone now. You’re starting over.”

      “Yes.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Don’t tell anyone, okay, Piper?”

      “About the engagements?” Piper’s soothing tones did wonders for Ashley. “Of course not. No one will care anyway. One look at you and the men will be knocking down my door.”

      “I doubt that.” She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then admitted what was really on her mind. “I suppose people know about my grandfather’s oil money but I hope nobody asks about it.”

      “I can almost guarantee that someone will. After all, your dad lived here till he died. Some of the old folks will remember him, and you. What’s wrong with that?”

      “Nothing if that’s all it is. But sometimes when people find out about it they change, ask me to do things, insist I help them. It can be rather scary.” She felt silly admitting that but it was the truth. “Last week a woman who said she knew my grandfather came into the gallery and asked me to pay for her son’s rehab. I was lucky Ferris came back from lunch early but even then he had to call the police to make her leave. I’ve been on tenterhooks ever since, hoping she won’t accost me on the street.”

      “I’m sure no one here will do that. Mostly I’ve found that people here are as friendly as you are. Just like when we were kids. The only thing is I’ve already told Jason about Kent and all the rest,” Piper soothed. Her soft voice brimmed with happiness. “We don’t have any secrets.”

      “Jason’s okay. You trust him, so I do, too.”

      “Yeah, I do trust him. Totally. Which is why I can hardly wait to marry the man.”

      “I’m happy for you, Pip.”

      They discussed how long it would take to drive from Vancouver to the cottage country two hours north of Toronto.

      “It’s an awfully long drive to make alone, Ash.”

      “It’s the only way. I can’t fly. Last time was horrible.”

      Piper sighed. “I was hoping you were getting over those panic attacks.”

      “Some days I think I am. Then something happens and it starts all over again.”

      “That’s an even better reason to come to the Bay. You know you’re safe here.”

      Not quite true, but Ashley wasn’t going to get into it. She promised to call Piper every night she was on the road, then hung up. Because her ankle ached she sank onto the sofa she’d bought with her first paycheck, the one Kent hated so much—the one she loved because to her the pale-blue suede said home. She gazed at her watercolor of Serenity Bay.

      Would she be safe there?

      She was older now, had learned how to take precautions. Therapy had helped her deal with the panic attacks. But most importantly, he wasn’t there anymore. She’d been back to the Bay several times and never once had she seen the man who’d grabbed her that spring afternoon so long ago.

      Thinking about him made her anxious, so Ashley closed her eyes and let daydreams of happier times take over—until the familiar nightmare cut in. Then she rose and changed into her nightgown. From the vial in her purse she took out one of the sedatives that would guarantee a deep, dreamless sleep and swallowed it.

      Snuggled into bed, she refocused on Serenity Bay and the good times she’d once found on its shores.

      Michael Masters gazed at the cherubic face of his sleeping daughter. Tatiana was so small, yet she held his heart in that grubby little fist.

      He touched a fingertip to the cloud of hair as dark as his own, felt the silken texture of one fat curl wrap against his skin. He’d never imagined he would experience weak knees and palpitations all because of one four-year-old girl.

      Lest he disturb her afternoon nap, he tiptoed from the room, monitor in hand. If she made a squeak he’d be back in here in three seconds. But he hoped she’d nap for an hour, long enough that he could get some work done.

      His studio, if you could call it that, was at the back of the house, far from her room. It was an addition roughly thrown together, a place to work in his spare time.

      Spare time. Ha! A joke. There was never any spare time, not since Tati had whirled into his life.

      Michael stepped inside the room, breathed in. Pine, spruce, cedar—they mingled together into a woodsy blend that made his fingertips itch to get to work. Once he’d checked the volume on the monitor, he set it on his work table, picked up the oak piece he’d begun two weeks ago and grabbed a chisel. In his mind he visualized what he wanted to create, then set about releasing the face from the wood,

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