“You’re welcome.” He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Now drink your coffee, ’cause we both know how crabby you get without caffeine.”
“She came here, with him. The man she loved. It doesn’t look all that different from the painting.”
She couldn’t stop chattering. She tried to tell herself to shut up, but the words kept coming. Ford leaned back on one elbow and ate, looking amused. He held up a spoon and handed her the yogurt.
“I’m talking too much.” She took the spoon and began to eat.
“You had quite a run on.” He nodded.
“I’m just excited. I wish I had my camera.”
“We can come back.” He finished one of the sandwiches and rolled up the foil it had been wrapped in. “Anytime you want.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I come here a lot. At least, I used to. It’s always been a quiet place. I’ve always been able to think here.” He unwrapped another sandwich. “When I was younger, especially. There was always so much going on at the inn, I had to find a place where I could just think things through. Like when I screwed up a ball game, or screwed up on a test.” He paused. “Or like when my dad died.”
“I had a place like that, too, near the house where I grew up. There were woods near the back of our property. There were trees so tall that they formed this huge canopy overhead, so it was always sort of dark there, and it always smelled of pine. Whenever I had to get away by myself for a while, I went there. When we moved from that house, I missed that place more than I missed the house or my friends. It was sort of a refuge. Even now, the scent of pine takes me back to that place, and it always calms me.”
“That’s how I feel when I hear the water lap onto the sand the way it’s doing now.” He nodded toward the water’s edge. “Sometimes, on a really calm day, at low tide, you can hardly hear it at all.”
They finished eating and cleaned up, putting everything back into the basket.
“We should probably be getting back,” he said. “I know you’re supposed to meet the caterer to talk over the menu for the opening.”
“I don’t meet with her until two.” She lay back on the blanket and pulled him down to kiss him.
From the water came a loud whistle as a rowboat full of kids started into the cove.
“Oh, hey, thanks, guys,” Ford called to them, and waved.
“I’m guessing this is a more popular place than we thought.”
“I guess.” He sat up, but kept his arms around her. He took his phone from his shirt pocket and scrolled through a page, then set the phone on the blanket. She rested against him, watching the waves spill onto the shore, and closed her eyes. A song began to play on the phone, and for a moment, it was just background music. Until she listened and heard the familiar voice.
Kenny Chesney. “You Had Me at Hello.”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him.
Ford nodded. “You did. From the first time I saw you in the lobby, you had me.”
She held his face in her hands, and kissed him. “You had me, too,” she told him. “Let’s go home.”
“You have that meeting …”
She stood and pulled him up. “There’s plenty of time between now and then. Hours, actually …”
Chapter 24 
DEANNA Clark had come highly recommended as the best caterer on the Eastern Shore. Carly hoped her reputation proved true—the RSVPs were already starting to arrive and some of the biggest names in the art world were planning to attend. The press release she’d had Enrico send out on Friday of the week before had done the trick. So far, no one on the VIP list had declined. Carly wanted the reception on Saturday before the gallery was opened to be simple but elegant, and to reflect the Bay.
“I know exactly what you want,” Deanna assured her. “Tiny crab cakes, smoked bluefish, seared tuna. Oysters. Some of our fabulous local vegetables—I’ll email you a list of my recommendations and you can chose.”
“Wonderful. Could I ask you to send it sooner rather than later? Time is getting short …”
“You’ll have it within the hour. Just look it over, make your selections, and I’ll get right on it.”
One more big item crossed off, Carly thought, and wasn’t she lucky that Deanna had had an event cancel on her right before Carly called, ready to apologize for the late call and prepared to plead with the caterer to take on the event.
She went back over her list. She’d ordered the champagne for the reception and sent invitations to all the local dignitaries. She’d asked several friends to host at the mansion once the doors were opened to the public, just to keep an eye on things, and she had a list of volunteers to take shifts so that they could all check out the main event. She’d included those people—Vanessa, Steffie, Brooke, Sophie, and of course, Ellie and Cam and Gabi—on the guest list. Dallas and Grant had been on the VIP list, inasmuch as he was a member of the town council. Dallas’s great-aunt Berry was included because, well, she was a true VIP.
Carly had sent Grace an invitation, but was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to attend due to her injuries. She mentioned as much to Ford that evening right before she fell asleep.
“It’s such a shame your mom can’t make it to the opening,” she said.
“Who said she wasn’t coming?” He yawned.
“Really? You think she’ll make it?”
“Really? You think she’d miss it?” He yawned again. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her here. She’s already put out the word.”
“Great. I’d hate for her to miss it. She was so instrumental in getting the project off the ground, you know?” When he didn’t respond, she turned over to find him sound asleep.
Well, he’s been really busy with the paper, she reminded herself. Interviews every day, and all the time he’d started spending at the office. She knew it must please Grace that he was really into the Gazette these days. Carly hoped that meant he’d be staying, but she never had the nerve to ask after that one time. Maybe his answer would still be “I don’t know.” If he were to stay, she’d stay. Well, maybe not every day, but she’d come back on weekends when she could. Maybe sometimes during the week. Maybe she’d keep the lease on the house, or if Hal wanted to sell it, maybe she’d put an offer in. She’d already started to think of it as their house …
She fell asleep thinking happy thoughts about the way things could turn out.
And awoke to the sound of a ringing phone, and Ford’s voice.
“When? Where?” He got out of bed and grabbed his clothes and started putting them on.
Dreaming, she told herself. Must be dreaming. Why else would he be getting dressed in the middle of the night?
“All right. Yes, by morning. Hold the plane for me. I’ll be there.”
The next thing she knew, he was leaning over her, calling her name.
“Car? Carly? Wake up, baby.”
“What?” She opened her eyes. He was fully dressed. It hadn’t been a dream.
“I have to go.”
“What do you mean, you have to go?” She looked at the clock. “It’s three in the morning.”
“I have to leave.”
“Where are you going?”
“Raymond Nakimbe has been arrested. I’m going back.”
“Wait. You’re going to Africa? Now?” She sat up. “I thought you said you were out of the military.”
“I am out of the military. I’ve been asked to go back to give testimony against him about what I know, what I observed. I want to go, Car. I have to go.”
“For Anna …”
“For Anna and for the two guys from my unit. Our old commander has arranged for all of us to go.”