A New World by Patricia McLinn

Author:Patricia McLinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781939215062
Publisher: Craig Place Books
Published: 2017-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eleanor sat on the end of Dog Bar Breakwater and watched Cahill walk toward her over granite blocks each as big as a compact car.

The Eastern Point lighthouse, rotund and freshly painted white, contrasted with his dark-haired, lithe form. She smiled to herself at the notion of comparing Cahill to a lighthouse.

She felt remarkably cheerful today, considering her lack of sleep the night before and the strain of lunch and farewells with her mother. Actually, that had gone surprisingly well, thanks to Cahill.

If his presence in her house had cost her sleep, he’d unconsciously compensated by smoothing over the final hours of her mother and stepfather’s visit.

Eleanor couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent four consecutive hours with her mother with less tension. Maybe as a child, before she’d realized wishing on stars was not a suitable fulltime occupation for adults.

Cahill steered the conversation largely away from topics that would expose her mother and Norman’s flaws, while she dug deep for more tolerance of their Pollyanna-ish views. The worst moment came when Connie thanked them profusely for giving them some of their precious honeymoon time, prompting Norman to nudge Cahill in the ribs and say with a wink that the morning after the wedding night was just the time a man did need a break.

With their flight boarding, Norman gave her his usual crushing hug and she even returned it a little. Voluntarily, she leaned forward to kiss her mother’s soft cheek. Connie’s voice choked with tears as she said goodbye, but Eleanor knew she’d made her mother happy. The satisfaction she got from knowing that surprised her.

All in all, “mellow” might describe her mood. She must be feeling mellow to let Cahill coerce her into the delayed tour of Gloucester and then out on the breakwater.

“People aren’t supposed to go on the breakwater,” she’d said. “It’s dangerous. People have drowned.”

“I promise I won’t let you drown, Eleanor.”

“I’m not worried about that, but it’s not a good example if any kids saw us.”

Cahill looked at her steadily. “It’s a good example you’re wanting to be? One of those role models they’re forever yammering about? How about being a kid yourself every now and again?”

“Are you saying I’m stuffy?” She tried to sound indignant, but it was obvious she truly cared about his answer.

“I’m saying I want to sit with you on the breakwater.”

Once he’d gotten his wish, however, he’d discovered that a granite block sits no softer than it looks. He went back to the car for the old bedspread to serve as padding.

She turned away to watch a small fishing boat come into the harbor. Watching the way Cahill moved started a sequence of thoughts she’d resolved to avoid. She’d had plenty of time last night to make, break and remake the resolution as the hours crept by.

“Now, that looks like a true fishing boat.” Cahill nodded at its battered appearance. Salt water was winning its duel with the paint. Lines and pulleys sprouted from the mast like a Spartan Maypole, and nets, buckets, coolers and boxes littered the deck.

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