Inner Harbor. Lois Richer

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      Annie followed him down the aisle, almost jogging to keep up with his long stride. Her curiosity got the better of her.

      “Are you visiting Safe Harbor, Mr. Mitchard?”

      “It’s Russ.” He stopped, glanced at her. “Sort of.” He tilted his head one way. “Maybe.” A decided negative shake. “No, not really.”

      “Nothing like a straight answer.” Annie peeked at him in confusion. “Could you explain that, please?”

      “I guess I’d better. Let’s see—where to begin?” He laughed, a burst of pure pleasure that echoed around the sanctuary. He never looked away from her the entire time he considered his answer. His expressive eyes fluctuated from pewter to steel, then glowed like polished silver.

      “I used to come to Safe Harbor every summer with my parents when I was a kid. Mom and Dad had a cottage just outside of town.”

      “I see.” She didn’t, really, but she pressed on, anxious to know how long he’d be around. Suddenly the nippy spring afternoon seemed warmer. “So you’re back to take a look, relive the memories of your youth?”

      If she hadn’t been staring at his gorgeous face, she would have missed the flare of pain that snatched the joy from his eyes. A minute later the look was gone, roguish grin firmly in place.

      “No, I’m not interested in the past. I’m interested in the future. I’m going into business here. Perhaps you’ve noticed my shop—The Quest?”

      Annie blinked. This hunk owned The Quest?

      The gossips were going to be put out. They’d insisted some tacky tourist outfit was setting up shop in their quaint little town and had all but voted to boycott the place. Nobody in their right mind would boycott this charming man, whatever he was selling.

      Nobody but her, that is. He might be good-looking, and he was certainly attractive, but she had no intention of getting involved. Not that way. She just needed an organist.

      “Well, have you? Noticed my shop?” he prodded.

      Annie snapped back to reality, caught the sparkle of pride glinting at her from those silver-gray eyes. She knew that feeling, felt the same way whenever she caught a glimpse of her bed-and-breakfast.

      “I noticed.” Who could help it with all the cargo being unloaded daily?

      “I’ve been forwarding a lot of my stuff. I hope it’s here.”

      She nodded. “Actually, right after the sign went up, the crates began arriving. I think you’ll find everything is there.”

      His chest seemed to expand. “My sculptures,” he told her.

      Sculptures? Annie frowned. Stone carvings, she decided. That’s why his hands were marked. As usual, her mind slipped into its creative mode and began fashioning a background story. The chisel must have slipped and—

      “I’m a silversmith. My specialty is lamps. I had a lot of equipment sent here, too.”

      “Oh.” There wasn’t anything else she could say. The reality was so far beyond anything anyone in the entire town had imagined, her included. “Drew’s parents used to rent that space for their bookstore. The Book Den.”

      “Ah.” He seemed surprised. “I agreed to keep the books, to sell what I could. I wondered why the owner insisted they went with the place.” He held her coat while she slipped her arms inside, then turned her and did up the buttons as he spoke.

      “There’s a lot of work in progress here, isn’t there? Some places look spanking new, others look old and tired. I guess that’s the charm of a tourist town. Past, present and future all bound together. I’m hoping Safe Harbor will live up to its potential this summer. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

      “Me, too.” Annie just hoped the potential would arrive sooner rather than later.

      “It looks a lot better than when I was a kid, though.” He pulled on soft leather gloves, easing each finger in as he spoke, apparently unaware that she’d spoken. “All I remember are a few older buildings, streets so bumpy they could trip you, and the dock. That dock was like a second home.”

      “Sounds like you had a lot of fun here.”

      “Sometimes.” The glow in his eyes seemed to dim a little. Then he smiled. “I’ll admit, I never cared much about anything but the water.” He held the door open for her.

      Annie flicked off the lights, then stepped outside, grateful that the sun still shone, that the days had lengthened. Winter was almost gone, and she was glad. She loved the rebirth of life spring always brought. It meant hope, new beginnings, a chance to change.

      “The water?” she murmured while wondering how to make a graceful exit.

      “I was addicted to water. Am addicted.” He grinned at her puzzled look. “Boating,” he explained. “Give me a sailboat and a light breeze, and the rest of the world fades away.”

      The way he said it, eyes flashing silver glints like wave crests rolling across the midnight deep, snagged Annie’s attention. Drew’s parents, her best friends, had been like that, totally relaxed in the world of water. They’d hoped to impart that love to their small son, but since their deaths, Drew hadn’t been on a boat, hadn’t expressed the least interest in them. That was one area in which Annie felt she’d failed her dearest high school friend—not teaching Rhonda’s son the joys of sailing. If the cousin took him soon, she’d lose her chance. Sadness at the emptiness of a life without Drew gripped her.

      “That’s one reason I chose this place to set up my shop.” His stare grew more intent. “Though there were several other factors.”

      It sounded like he was hinting at something. But Annie had no idea what that could be about, and she needed to get back to work.

      “I see. Well, goodbye. And thanks.” Annie skipped down the church steps and traveled on the sidewalk toward home, a faded memory gurgling up from the depths of her mind.

      Russ Mitchard reminded her of her father. Though he’d been dead for ten years, killed in a car accident in some far distant place, what she remembered of her dad bore a remarkable resemblance to the man at the church. No, it was far more than his tall, handsome looks. Her father’s reputation as a charmer, smooth, glib, funny, with the glitz and charisma that drew people like bees to jam, worked exactly the way Russ Mitchard had drawn Annie’s attention with his dancing eyes that promised so much.

      Her protective radar beeped an alarm. Her father had cruised through life on his personality and wit. And he’d made her mother’s life a misery. Of course, she and Russ wouldn’t have much contact, but she’d be doubly careful. She had her business and Drew; that would take all her time. Besides, a handsome, rugged man like him would hardly be interested in Annie Simmons.

      “Are you going somewhere?” Annie realized she was halfway home and he was still there, beside her, as they waited at the corner for traffic to pass.

      “Of СКАЧАТЬ