She’d forgotten with all that had gone on last night that Easton had said he would talk to their gardener. She hadn’t really believed that he would, so that might be another reason she hadn’t thought about it again. “Yes. Yes, I am.” She stepped out into the sunshine to stand beside him on the porch, then pointed to the overgrown grass and weeds growing throughout the front yard. “This all needs to be cut, and the same goes for the backyard, and the bushes need to be trimmed and cut back away from the house.”
“No problem. I can get started right now, if you’d like?”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“I’ve got my lawnmower and tools on my truck. It’s parked next door.”
Before he walked away, she added, “If you need anything, just come on in.”
He smiled and then disappeared between two huge lilac bushes.
Tara went back into the kitchen and told her grandmother the news. “Before long, you won’t recognize this place.”
“I’m sure I won’t.” Although her tone was light, Tara could see the sadness in her eyes, and she knew her grandmother was thinking of Addison. “So what did you think of the Douglas boy?”
Tara put the kettle back on the stove as the water inside had cooled, then leaned her back up against the kitchen counter and folded her arms across her chest. Hmmm. What did she think of Easton? That shouldn’t be a tough question, but it was. Should she tell her grandmother the truth, that she thought he was trouble and way too full of himself? Probably not, considering the Douglas and Spencer families had been close friends for a very long time. “I really only spoke to him for a couple of minutes,” she replied, trying her best to avoid a direct answer. “It was nice of him to send Tony over, though.”
“He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?” Her eyes were focused like a hawk on Tara’s face.
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She could feel her cheeks heat as she thought of the way he’d checked her out yesterday, especially when her dress blew up. Thankfully, the teakettle had begun to whistle, and Tara spun around quickly, hoping her grandmother hadn’t noticed her discomfort. She poured some water into a cup, then popped in a bag of Earl Grey tea.
“That other one, Bennett—Easton’s cousin—he’s quite good-looking too. I don’t know which one is more attractive.”
So they weren’t brothers; they were cousins. Tara bobbed her teabag up and down in the cup. She hoped her grandmother wasn’t going to try to fix her up with one of them. The last thing she wanted was to get involved with someone. “I really couldn’t say, Grandmother. I only saw Bennett for a second yesterday when I went outside to get the rest of my things from the car.”
“I guess it depends what type you prefer. Those two are so different, you’d never guess they were related.”
Tara dropped her teabag in the sink, then picked up her cup and carried it over to the table. She slid into the chair next to her grandmother and said, changing the subject, “After I call in the groceries, I’m going to start straightening up the house. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Not right now. I’m going to go sit in the parlor and read for a while, but don’t be surprised if you find me asleep in the chair.”
“I’ll bring you a fresh cup of tea and some toast, if you have any bread.”
Her grandmother smiled at her. “That would be nice, dear. It’s in the bread box, under the silverware drawer.”
Tara watched her grandmother hobble away, then she set about making breakfast. Between bites of toast, she called Cody’s Market and was pleased when she was told the groceries would be delivered by noon.
After she had her grandmother settled in the other room, Tara opened all the shutters. Sunlight poured into the house, making it even more apparent how badly it needed to be cleaned. She started with the dining room, and it seemed like it took forever to get all the knickknacks dusted and put away, but what a huge difference it made having the table cleared off.
The next room she decided to tackle was the library, and, no doubt, it would be the most challenging. She wasn’t about to sort through all her grandfather’s papers today. Eventually, she’d like to do that, though. For now, she just wanted to straighten it up so she could clean it. She started with his desk, then moved on to the Gothic-style wall-to-wall bookcase loaded with classics. She spotted an old edition of
Moby Dick
, one of her favorites. When she pulled it off the shelf, she noticed a leather-bound journal stuck behind it and started to thumb through it.
It had page after page of passages written by her grandfather. If she started reading it now, she’d never finish cleaning. Besides, the polite thing would be to ask her grandmother’s permission. After all, she’d be going through his diary. She set it down on the desk, put
Moby Dick
back in the bookcase, and then finished the library.
She’d just started on another room when the groceries arrived from Cody’s Market. Once they were put away, she made lunch. It was obvious by her grandmother’s coughing that she’d be ready to go upstairs when she finished eating.
“Grandmother, you’ll never guess what I found while I was cleaning the library. Grandfather’s journal.”
“Really?” She put her sandwich down and leaned back in the chair. She had a faraway look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Her grandmother smoothed the napkin on her lap. “I’m not. I was just thinking back, that’s all. He was always scribbling in that thing. Lord knows what he was writing,” she said with a laugh. “Feel free to read all you like, though, I doubt you’ll find it very exciting. Your grandfather was many things, but a good writer wasn’t one of them.”
“I just thought it might give me an idea of what he was like.”
“I’m sure it will do that.” She put her hand to her forehead. “I’m feeling a little peaked. I think I’ll go up to my room.”
Tara pushed her chair back and jumped up. “Here, let me help you.” She took hold of the old woman’s elbow and helped her to her feet, then reached for her grandmother’s cane propped up against the side of the table and handed it to her.
“Thank you, dear.” Before going upstairs, she said, “If you wouldn’t mind, when you have a chance, I’d really appreciate it if you would bring me up something to drink.”
“Of course. How about a glass of juice? We have orange and apple.”
“Apple would be very nice.”
As Tara watched her walk away, she wondered if there was more to her mood shift than just the mention of the journal. She would have to make a mental note to talk to her about having the doctor come back and recheck her.
~*~
Easton stretched out his legs under the conference table while he listened to his father and Bennett discuss new ways to advertise their beers. They’d already been cooped up in this meeting for hours, but it could be a few more before they made a decision, judging by prior meetings. They were never satisfied with the status quo and were always looking for ways to shake things up. He put his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn, and that wasn’t missed by his father.
“Are we boring you?” he asked gruffly.
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“I’d like you to contribute.”
Really? What for? Whenever he voiced his opinion, they shot him down. Two to one always left him on the losing end of things. “If you want to try a new campaign, do it with the wheat ale, but leave the lager as is. The ad with the couple at the farm had us double our sales for this quarter.”
His dad rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. Is that true, Bennett?”
His cousin cast him a dirty look. “I’m not sure,” he mumbled. “I’ll check into it.”
Easton grinned, knowing he had thrown Bennett off his game.
“Did he tell you Addison’s granddaughter is staying with Emily?” Bennett shot back.
His dad narrowed his eyes and stared at him. “No, he did not. For some reason, he neglected to tell me that.”
“I guess it slipped my mind. I didn’t think it was that important,” Easton casually replied.
His father banged his fist on the desk. “It slipped my mind. I didn’t think it was important,” he mimicked. “Well, you thought to ask if Tony could do some work next door. Guess you considered that important. I thought it seemed weird that Emily would suddenly give a damn what her place looked like. I’ll bet it wasn’t her idea, was it? More like her granddaughter’s. I’ll bet she’s good-looking too.”
Bennett piped in, “Yeah, she’s hot, so what. Who cares what she looks like? I’m worried that if she’s cleaning up the outside of the place, she’ll be cleaning up the inside. What if Addison really did add a codicil to his will like he threatened? What if she finds it in that mess before Emily settles the estate?”
A hard line formed across his father’s mouth. “That’s why Easton will be keeping an eye on her. It shouldn’t be hard, right, son? After all, you have a thing for attractive women, and they certainly like you.”
As he stared back at his father, he tried hard to control his temper. How dare he want him to play Tara? But if he refused, his dad would only have Bennett do it. “What choice do I have?”
“None.” His voice was cold.
Bennett slammed his chair back and was up on his feet. “I’m not going to risk my future on Easton getting into her pants. I’ll deal with her in my own way.”
That was the last straw. Easton was up and around the table in a second. He grabbed Bennett by the collar and was just about to connect his other fist with his cousin’s jaw when his father grabbed hold of him.
“Whoa. I’m not going to have any of that. Not here. I’m still running the business, and what I say goes. Got it?”
Easton dropped his arms to his sides. “Are we done here?”
“More than done.”
“Good.” Easton undid his tie and threw it on the chair, then left the room. He strode through the brewery and out the front door. The late-afternoon sun hit him in the face like a wakeup call. What was he doing? He should go back home to Boston and not look back. Except he had to stay. He couldn’t let his grandfather down. Even if that meant deceiving someone who didn’t deserve it. Someone like Tara…
Tara sat on the edge of the pier with her feet dangling in the ocean. The cool water felt good. What a day! She couldn’t believe she’d gotten through the entire first floor and the difference it had made. She could tell her grandmother was happy with the changes too, even if a part of her hated to let go of the past.
Not only did the inside of the house look great, but the outside was pretty fabulous too. She couldn’t believe how Tony whizzed through the weeds and overgrown grass and how the shrubs looked like shrubs now, not a tangle of branches and thorns. Tomorrow she would tackle the upstairs, which should be a piece of cake compared to what she’d done today.
On her lap, she held her grandfather’s journal. Tara leafed through it, reveling in the fact that she had in her hands a huge piece of him. This should give her insight into the man that he was…the man she never got to know. Her chest tightened when she thought of how different her life could have been if she’d grown up here on this island instead of in New Hampshire. Not that she regretted the life she had. It was wonderful for the most part. Her parents were great. She had good friends. It wasn’t until Jason came into her life that things changed. Part of that was her fault, though. She should have known better than to get involved with him. Besides, she could meet that type anywhere. Even here. And she might have already.
Her thoughts drifted to Easton. All signs told her to stay away from him, but as with anything that was bad for you, you want more.
She continued to flip through the journal, reading a paragraph here and a paragraph there, looking for something that would catch her interest. As far as she could tell, her grandmother had been right. Grandfather wasn’t a very exciting writer. Soon her eyelids grew heavy, and she lay back on the pier, placing the journal on her chest. The sun on her face made her even more tired, and before long, she was asleep.
She didn’t hear anyone approach. It wasn’t until he spoke that she opened her eyes, and even then she wasn’t fully awake.
He cast a long shadow over her, blocking out the sun and making her shiver. “Interesting reading, I see.”
She blinked quickly, trying to bring Easton’s face into focus. “As interesting as any journal can be.” She picked it up off her chest and set it down beside her, then sat up, running her fingers through her windblown hair. “It’s my grandfather’s.”
He sat next to her. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”
She rolled her eyes. “What difference does it make? Will you go away if I mind?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I get the feeling you don’t like me. What’s it going to take to change your mind?” His hazel eyes held her gaze.
She stared out at the water. “I don’t dislike you. I don’t even know you. But I know your type.”
He laughed. “And what type’s that?”
She looked back at him. “You know darn well.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.”