2
Cedar Cove was a festive little town, Mary Jo thought when she stepped off the ferry. It was a place that took Christmas seriously. Even the small terminal was decorated, with bells hanging from the ceiling and large snowflakes in the windows. She’d never been here before and was pleasantly surprised by its charm. After taking the Washington State ferry from downtown Seattle to Bremerton, she’d caught the foot ferry across Sinclair Inlet to the small town David had mentioned.
He’d only talked about it that one time. She’d had the impression he didn’t like it much, but she hadn’t understood why.
She looked around.
A lighthouse stood off in the distance, picturesque against the backdrop of fir trees and the green waters of the cove. Waves rhythmically splashed the large rocks that marked the beach. Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder and getting a tighter grip on her bag, Mary Jo walked down the pier into town.
Large evergreen boughs stretched across the main street of Cedar Cove—Harbor Street, according to the sign—and from the center of each hung a huge ornament. There were alternating wreaths, angels and candles. The lightposts were festooned with holly. The effect of all these decorations was delightful and it raised her spirits—until she remembered why she was in Cedar Cove.
It was ten in the morning on Christmas Eve, and everyone seemed to have places to go and people to see. So did Mary Jo, except that she was in no hurry to get there, and who could blame her? This was likely to be a painful confrontation.
Not sure where to start searching for David’s family, desperate to collect her thoughts, Mary Jo stopped at a coffee house called Mocha Mama’s about a block from the waterfront. This, too, was decorated and redolent of Christmas scents—fir, cinnamon, peppermint. And the rich, strong aroma of fresh coffee. The place was nearly empty. The only other person there was a young man who stood behind the counter; he was writing or drawing something in a sketchbook and appeared to be immersed in his task, whatever it was.
“Merry Christmas,” Mary Jo said cheerfully, wondering if her words sounded as forced as they felt. She pulled off her wool hat and gloves, cramming them in her pockets.
Her presence startled the young man, who wore a name tag that identified him as Shaw. He glanced up, blinked in apparent confusion, then suddenly smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t see you come in. What can I get you?”
“I’d like one of your decaf candy cane mochas, Shaw.”
“What size?”
“Oh, grande—is that what you call it here? Medium. One of those.” She pointed at a stack of cups.
His eyes went to her stomach, which protruded from the opening of her long wool coat. She could no longer fasten more than the top three buttons.
“You’re gonna have a baby.” Shaw said, as if this information should be a surprise to her.
“Yes, I am.” She rested a protective hand on her belly.
Shaw began to prepare her mocha, chatting as he did.
“It’s been pretty quiet this morning. Maybe ’cause it’s Christmas Eve,” he commented.
Mary Jo nodded, then took a chair by the window and watched people walk briskly past. The town seemed to be busy and prosperous, with people popping in and out of stores along the street. The bakery had quite a few customers and so did a nearby framing shop.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Shaw said. He added whipped topping and a candy cane to her cup and handed it to her.
“I’m visiting,” Mary Jo explained as she got up to pay for her drink. Shaw seemed to be full of information; he might be just the person to ask about David. She poked a folded dollar bill into the tip jar. “Would you know any people named Rhodes in this area?” she asked speculatively, holding her drink with both hands.
“Rhodes, Rhodes,” Shaw repeated carefully. He mulled it over for a moment, then shook his head. “The name sounds familiar but I can’t put a face to it.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t quite hide her disappointment. Carrying her mocha, she returned to the table by the window and gazed out at the street again. Her biggest fear was that her three brothers would come rolling into town in their huge pickup, looking like vigilantes out of some old western. Or worse, a bunch of hillbillies. Mary Jo decided she had to get to David and his family first.
“Just a minute,” Shaw said, suddenly excited. “There is a Rhodes family in Cedar Cove.” He reached behind the counter and pulled out a telephone directory.
Mary Jo wanted to slap her forehead. Of course! How stupid. She should’ve checked the phone book immediately. That was certainly what her brothers would do.
“Here,” Shaw said, flipping the directory around so she could read the listings. As it happened, there was a B. Rhodes, a Kevin Rhodes and three others—and Mary Jo had no way of knowing which of these people were related to David. The only thing to do was to call every one of them and find out.
“Would you mind if I borrowed this for a few minutes?” she asked.
“Sure, go ahead. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thanks.”
“Consider it a random act of kindness.”
“Not so random.” Mary Jo smiled as she brought the phone book back to her table. She rummaged for her cell phone; she hadn’t remembered to charge it before she left and was relieved to see that she had nearly a full battery. She dialed the number for B. Rhodes and waited through several rings before a greeting came on, telling her that Ben and Charlotte weren’t available and inviting her to leave a message. She didn’t. She actually spoke to the next Rhodes, who sounded young and didn’t know anyone named David. Of the last three, the first had a disconnected phone line and the other two didn’t answer.
Mary Jo had assumed it would be easy to find David in a town as small as Cedar Cove. Walking down Harbor Street, she’d seen a sign for Roy McAfee, a private investigator. She hadn’t expected to need one, and even if she could afford to pay someone else to track down David Rhodes, it wasn’t likely that Mr. McAfee would accept a case this close to Christmas.
“Any luck?” Shaw asked.
“None.” Without knowing the name of David’s father, she couldn’t figure out what her next step should be. There were three, possibly four, potential candidates, since she’d managed to rule out just one. Her only consolation was the fact that if she was having trouble, so would her brothers.
“I can think of one person who might be able to help you,” Shaw said thoughtfully.
“Who?”
“Grace Harding. She’s the head librarian and she knows practically everyone in town. I’m not sure if she’s working this morning but it wouldn’t do any harm to go there and see.”
“The library is where?” Being on foot and pregnant definitely imposed some limitations, especially now that it had started to snow.
“How’d you get here?” Shaw asked.
“Foot ferry.”
He grinned. “Then you walked right past it when you got off. It’s the concrete building with the large mural on the front. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”
Mary Jo had noticed two such murals. She supposed it wouldn’t be difficult to distinguish which one was the library. Eager to talk to Grace Harding, she left the remainder of her drink behind. She put the wool hat back on her head and pulled on her gloves. It was cold and the few snowflakes that had begun to drift down seemed persistent, like a harbinger of more to come. The Seattle area rarely experienced a white Christmas, and under other circumstances Mary Jo would’ve been thrilled at the prospect of snow.
As Shaw had predicted, she didn’t have a problem locating the library. The mural of a frontier family was striking, and the library doors were decorated with Christmas wreaths. When she stepped inside, she saw dozens of cut-out snowflakes suspended from the ceiling in the children’s area, as well as a display of seasonal picture books, some of which—like A Snowy Day— she remembered from her own childhood. A large Christmas tree with book-size wrapped gifts underneath stood just inside the small lobby. One look told Mary Jo this was a much-used and much-loved place.
She welcomed the warmth, both emotional and physical. There was a woman at the counter, which held a sign stating that the library would close at noon. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Mary Jo was surprised to see that it was already ten-forty-five.
She approached the front counter. “Excuse me. Are you Grace Harding?” she asked in a pleasant voice.
“Afraid not. Should I get her for you?”
Mary Jo agreed eagerly. “Yes, please.”
The woman disappeared into a nearby office. A few minutes later, she reappeared with another middle-aged woman, who greeted Mary Jo with a friendly smile. She wore a bright red turtleneck sweater under a festive holly-green jumper. Her right arm seemed to be thickly bandaged beneath her long sleeve.
“I’m Grace Harding,” she announced. “How can I help you?”
Mary Jo offered the woman a strained smile. “Hello, my name is Mary Jo Wyse and—” The baby kicked—hard—and Mary Jo’s eyes widened with shock. She placed her hands against her stomach and slowly exhaled.
“Are you okay?” Grace asked, looking concerned.
“I…think so.”
“Perhaps you should sit down.”
Numbly Mary Jo nodded. This was all so…unseemly. She hated making a fuss, but she suspected the librarian was right and she did need to sit. Thankfully, Ms. Harding came around the counter and led her to a chair. She left for a moment and returned with a glass of water.
“Here, drink this.”
“Thank you.” Mary Jo felt embarrassed, since almost everyone in the whole library was staring at her. No doubt she made quite a spectacle and people probably thought she’d give birth any second. Actually, her due date wasn’t for another two weeks; she didn’t think there was any danger the baby would arrive early, but this was her first pregnancy and she couldn’t really tell. She could only hope….
Grace took the chair beside hers. “How can I help you?” she asked again.
Mary Jo gulped down all the water, then put the glass down beside her.
Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands together. “I’m looking for a man by the name of David Rhodes.”
Right away Mary Jo saw that the other woman stiffened.
“You know him?” she asked excitedly, ignoring any misgivings over Grace’s reaction. “Is he here? He said he’d be visiting his father and stepmother in Cedar Cove. It’s important that I talk to him as soon as possible.”
Grace sagged in her chair. “Oh, dear.”
“Oh, dear,” Mary Jo repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Well…”
“Is David in town?”
Grace shook her head, but her expression was sympathetic. “I’m afraid not.”
Mary Jo’s heart sank. She should’ve known not to trust David. This was obviously another lie.
“What about his father and stepmother? Are they available?” If she didn’t tell David’s family about the baby, then her brothers surely would. The information would be better coming from her. The image of her brothers barging into these people’s home lent a sense of urgency to her question.
“Unfortunately,” Grace went on, “Ben and Charlotte have taken a Christmas cruise.”
“They’re gone, then,” Mary Jo said in a flat voice. She recalled the message on their phone; ironically, Ben had been the first Rhodes she’d called. Maybe she should be relieved they were out of town, but she wasn’t. Instead, a deep sadness settled over her. The uncertainty would continue. Whatever happened, she accepted the likelihood of being a single mother, but her brothers would never stand for it.
“According to a friend of mine, they’re coming back sometime tomorrow,” Grace told her.
“On Christmas Day?”
“Yes, that’s what I understand, at any rate. I can find out for sure if you’d like.”
“Yes, please.”
Grace looked tentative. “Before I phone Olivia—she’s the friend I mentioned—I should tell you that her mother is married to Ben Rhodes.”
“I see.”
“Would you mind if I asked you a question?”
“Of course not.” Although she already knew what that question would be…
“Is your baby…is David Rhodes—”
Rather than respond, Mary Jo closed her eyes and hung her head.
Grace touched her arm gently. “Don’t be upset, dear,” she murmured. “None of that matters now.”
The answer to Grace’s question was obvious. Why else would someone in an advanced state of pregnancy come looking for David and his family—especially on Christmas Eve?
As she opened her eyes, Grace squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“I haven’t seen or heard from David in weeks,” Mary Jo admitted. “He occasionally calls and the last time he did, he said he was coming here to spend Christmas with his family. My brothers want to make him marry me, but…but that isn’t what I want.”
“Of course you don’t.”
At least Grace shared her point of view. “I’ve got to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes as soon as I can and explain that even if David offered to marry me, I don’t think it’s the right thing for me or my baby.”
“I don’t either,” Grace said. “David isn’t to be trusted.”
Mary Jo grinned weakly. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you. But this is their grandchild. Or…or Ben’s, anyway. Maybe they’ll be interested in knowing the baby. Maybe David’ll want some kind of relationship.” She turned to Grace and said earnestly, “Shouldn’t I give them that choice?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do.” Grace squeezed her hand again. “I’ll go make that call and get right back to you. Olivia will know Charlotte and Ben’s travel schedule. However, it does seem to me that they’re due home on the twenty-fifth.”
“Thank you,” Mary Jo murmured. She was feeling light-headed and a bit queasy, so she intended to stay where she was until Grace returned. It didn’t take long.
Grace sat down next to her again. “I spoke with Olivia and she confirmed that Charlotte and Ben will indeed be home tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh…good.” Still, Mary Jo wasn’t sure what she should do next. If she went home, her brothers would be impossible. They’d be angry that she’d left with no warning other than a brief note. In any case, they were probably on their way to Cedar Cove now. And with some effort, they’d uncover the same information Mary Jo had.
“What would you like to do?” Grace asked.
“I think I’d better spend the night here,” Mary Jo said. She hadn’t packed a bag, but her requirements were simple. All she needed was a decent hotel. “Can you recommend a place to stay?”
“Oh, yes, there are several, including a lovely B-and-B. I’m just wondering if there’ll be a problem getting a room for tonight.”
“A problem?” This wasn’t something Mary Jo had considered.
“Let’s see if there’s anything at the Comfort Inn. It’s close by and clean.”
“That would be great. Thank you so much,” Mary Jo said.
Here it was, Christmas Eve, and she felt as if she’d found an angel to help her. An angel fittingly named Grace…