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By Root 868 0

she had to learn on her own. It hadn’t taken her long to discover that her father was unreliable and irresponsible. When Cecilia lost her baby, his idea of comforting her was a sympathy card sent through the mail. He was sorry for her loss, he’d written. But not once had he come to see his daughter in the hospital. Not once had he offered to help her with the financial burden. He couldn’t even be bothered to attend Allison’s burial. The only thing her father had done for Cecilia was get her a job at The Captain’s Galley, where she’d met Ian. For that one small twist of fate, she would always be grateful.

“You’re the right man for me,” she breathed, determined not to bring her father into the conversation. “Oh, Ian, I miss you so much.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

Not before the baby was born, but Cecilia couldn’t think about that. This time she wasn’t alone. Cathy Lackey would be with her and had promised to be her birthing coach. Cecilia had signed up for classes and they’d be starting soon. Cathy would go with her.

When Cecilia delivered Allison she’d been alone, not knowing a soul other than her father. The baby had arrived several weeks early. Her mother had intended to fly out, but couldn’t reach her in time. Friendless and frightened, Cecilia had gone to the hospital on her own.

“We need boy names, Ian,” she said, breaking off those painful memories.

“Ah…I can’t think of anything at the moment. Let me e-mail you a few suggestions. Okay?”

“Okay. But I think our son should have his daddy’s name.”

“Too confusing,” Ian said. “Maybe for his middle name.”

“That sounds fine.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I have to go, but before I do I need to ask a favor for a friend of mine. He asked if you’d mind checking on a girl for him.”

“Sure.”

“Her name is Rachel Pendergast and she works at a beauty place in Cedar Cove called Get Nailed.”

“I know it. Almost everyone gets their nails done there.”

“Nate went out with Rachel a couple of times and seems pretty interested in her, but she doesn’t have a computer. Apparently she writes him a lot, but it isn’t the same as being able to communicate on-line.”

“Couldn’t she use the computer at the library?” Cecilia asked. That was the one Cecilia had used when she and Ian were separated and she needed to keep in touch with him. With all the expenses related to burying Allison and the attorney’s fees for their failed divorce, she’d had no money for anything extra.

“Apparently Rachel’s never been on-line and isn’t sure how it works. This is all new to her.”

“I’ll get her started,” Cecilia promised.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, my handsome, wonderful husband.”

“How long has it been since I told you I love you?”

Cecilia smiled softly. “Too long.”

“I love you.”

She giggled with sheer happiness.

“A son,” Ian whispered. “A son.”

Eleven

This was moving day. Linnette’s brother had been a real help. He’d arrived at her Seattle apartment early Saturday morning with Lucky, his Australian Shepherd, and a couple of his friends who were volunteer firefighters with Mack. The only stuff left to move was her furniture and a few of the heavier boxes. Linnette had already taken over what she could, a little at a time, but the larger items required a truck, which she’d rented.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” Linnette told her brother after he and his friends had loaded up the truck. Bryan and Drew were carrying down the dining room chairs. Her roommate had left a month earlier, and the place was now completely empty.

“No problem,” Mack said. He’d stayed behind. Now he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m glad I can help. I’m hoping the two of us will have a chance to talk later.”

Before Linnette could reply, Bryan stepped back into the room. “You ready to head out?” he asked. He seemed eager to get going. Drew followed him inside, chanting, “Hey, hey, hey. We’re on our way.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Mack told them.

“We’ll find a chance to talk,” Linnette promised.

“Good. Maybe after we’ve unloaded the big stuff, we can chat and then I’ll drive the