His Winter Rose

“And work hasn’t been enough?” Ashley asked softly.

“For a while I thought it was. But this birthday has me thinking, I’m not getting any younger.”

“Neither are we. But we’re not closing up shop and moving back here.” Rowena’s voice sounded harsh, but her eyes brimmed with pity. “Have you been so unhappy?”

“That’s not the right word, Row. I’ve been rudderless, without any real goal. Serenity Bay is offering me a chance to stretch, to think outside the box. I need that challenge.”

“Need?”

Piper nodded.

“Need. I want the Bay to prosper, to grow, to provide years of fun and joy for other kids, for other families—just as it did for us.” She waved a hand. “This is where I want to spend my days, maybe someday raise my kids. I might even get back into Papa’s gold studio during the long, frosty winter nights, see if I can create again.”

“You always did have a flair for the unusual,” Rowena said. “People still stop me to ask where I got this.” She fingered the four-inch gold mask brooch she wore on her lapel.

“If it doesn’t work out or I get tired of the solitude, I can always go back to the city. But moving here, this job—I have to try.”

“Cathcart House is the perfect place to do it.”

They sat together, each musing over the changes that had come into their lives.

“I keep expecting your grandmother to bring out a jug of hot chocolate and tell us to button up.” Ashley sipped her tea, a half smile curving her lips.

“Last night I thought I heard your grandfather’s snores.” Rowena shrugged at their surprise. “What? Even I have normal dreams sometimes.”

“They left Cathcart House entirely to you, Pip? You don’t have to share it with your brother or anything?”

“They left Dylan cash. He never seemed to like the Bay, remember?” Piper shrugged. “I never understood that but he seemed happy enough with his share when I talked to him after their wills were read.”

“Was your father at the funeral?”

“No.” Piper swallowed hard. “At least, I didn’t see him.”

“It would be a bit much to expect him to show sorrow, wouldn’t it? As I recall there was no love lost between your grandparents and him.” Rowena tossed the rest of the tea over the side of the deck. “Though I must admit, I never heard them say a word against him.”

“Gran always said God would handle him so she didn’t have to worry.”

The three remained silent for a few moments in sober remembrance.

“So you’re not too concerned about your father or his plans?” Ashley asked, her forehead pleated in a tiny furrow.

Concerned, worried and a whole lot more. But Piper wouldn’t say that or these two friends would fuss about her. She didn’t want that.

“I want to be here to help with development if I can. That beach is glorious. There’s no way I’m going to sit back and watch a Wainwright hotel ruin it.”

“You’re sure that’s his plan?”

Piper nodded. “One of them.”

“And if he sways the council to his way of thinking? What will you do then?” Ashley pressed, her face expressing her concern.

“Pray.” Like praying had saved Vance’s life. Piper pushed down the anger. God’s will, not mine, she reminded herself.

“Changing Baron Wainwright would take an act of God, all right.” Rowena snorted. “Other people’s plans have never mattered to him. Did you hear about that Wainwright project in London? There are rumors that officials received bribes to pass some inspections.”

“I hadn’t heard.” Piper sloughed off her gloomy feelings, determined that nothing would spoil her joy in having her friends visit. “Anyway, I’m going to do what I can here. This job means I’ll be kept abreast of everything that goes on in Serenity Bay so, hopefully, I’ll be one step ahead.”

“Ever the optimist, that’s our Pip.”

“It’s not optimism, Row. It’s determination.” She narrowed her gaze trying to make them understand. “I want to prove something and this is the perfect place.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to us, honey.” Ashley rose, moved to fling her arms around Piper. “We already know you can do anything you set your mind on.”

“Thank you.” She hugged Ash right back. “But I have to prove it to myself, here, in this place. I didn’t come back to see my grandparents as often as I should have when they were here. Maybe I can keep their dreams for Cathcart House and the Bay alive.”

“Do it for yourself, Piper. Don’t do it to prove something to your father,” Row warned. “We all know he’s not worth the effort, not after his behavior toward Vance. Just know that if this is what you want, we’re behind you all the way.”

“She’s right. The Bayside Trio takes on tough challenges and rides ’em out no matter what. We’re fearless females just waiting to vanquish our foes.” Ashley thrust her arm above her head in the charge they’d chanted since grade nine. “Onward and upward!”

“Onward and upward,” Piper and Row repeated, grinning as if they were fifteen again and the world was just waiting for them.

“Here’s to your thirty-first year, Pip. You go, girl.”

Rowena dumped a splash of the hated tea into her cup and the three friends held up their mugs in a toast. Their admiration went a long way toward reassuring Piper that she’d made the right decision. She drank to her own success, giggled at Rowena’s jokes and answered Ashley’s questions as best she could.

But that night, after the party was over and her friends had left to return to their own lives, Piper lay alone in the big house and let her thoughts tumble into free fall. It was time to face the truth.

She’d told Ashley and Rowena that she wanted to help the Bay grow, and that was true. But more than that, she wanted to stop her father from ruining the one place she called home. And he would ruin it. He ruined everything he touched. Her childhood, her relationship with her brother. Every summer that she’d returned here from boarding school he’d arrived to make a scene about her coming back to live with him. She’d gone back twice—and regretted both. She’d even tried to work with him once. He’d ruined that, too, treating her like a stupid child. So she’d left Wainwright Inc., built a name for herself.

And even after that she’d given him one more chance, a chance to make the difference between life and death, a chance to prove he loved her. He’d blown her off, refused to help.

Well, he would not ruin Serenity Bay. There would be none of the gaudy neon lights his hotels boasted, no famous rock bands blaring till four in the morning and leaving mayhem behind, nobody wandering the streets at all hours, causing a disturbance. Not here. Not while she could stop it.

Curious sounds so different from the city noise she was accustomed to carried down the cliff’s side on a light breeze that fluttered the bedroom curtains.

Piper got up for a glass of water, and noticed someone moving across her property toward the peak of the cliff. At a certain point he or she stopped, removed something from a backpack and knelt down. A second later the figure had disappeared.

Lookout Point had always been a place where teens met for a good-night kiss. That’s probably who was out there now.

She stood watching for a moment, her thoughts drifting to the mayor and the many plans he had for the direction the town should take. She’d never had a problem working with anyone before, but something about the way Jason Franklin had watched her respond to the council’s questions made her wonder if he was as confident of her abilities as he’d said.

In her past jobs she’d been given a mandate and left to accomplish it, filing the paperwork, making her reports at the appropriate stages. But primarily she’d been her own boss. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her this job wouldn’t be like that. Mayor Franklin had an agenda. He wanted the Bay to start growing and he wanted it to happen his way. From what he’d said, Piper was fairly certain he wanted it to happen yesterday. It might be hard to appease him when developers didn’t immediately respond to her initial probes.

She smothered a yawn and padded back to bed.

Whatever happened, happened. She’d deal with it.

Maybe in doing her job she could coax Jason’s diamond-blue eyes to come alive, maybe get him to loosen up a little. Piper had a hunch that somewhere under all that grit and determination, a guy with a sense of humor lurked.

Maybe the girls were right. Maybe Jason Franklin would turn out to be more than the mayor.

Maybe she could finally come to terms with why God had taken away the only people who’d loved her and left her with a father who couldn’t see beyond his money to the daughter who wanted to be loved.

Chapter Two

When he’d handed in his resignation in Boston, he’d been told he wouldn’t last a year in the sticks.

A lot they knew.

Not only had he endured, he was thriving.

Jason swallowed the last of his morning coffee, certain he’d never tire of this view. He had no desire to go back. Not to traitors….

Don’t think about it.

He jerked to his feet. In his haste to escape what he couldn’t forget, he almost crashed the foot of his chair into the Plexiglas panel surrounding the deck.

“Calm down,” he ordered his racing pulse. “Just calm down. Forget the past. Let it die.”

Easier said than done.

Originally he’d thought living on top of his marina store was the kind of kooky idea one of his former high-flying clients might have come up with. But after two years in Serenity Bay, he still relished his perch high above the water.

His neighbor to the left was an age-old forest whose trees sheltered him from the wind. On the right, Jason shared the view with the docks and a public beach.

Nobody watched him, and he only watched the water. A little lonely, perhaps. But then again, he’d come to Serenity Bay for the solitude. At least that’s what he told himself.

Today the sun shone, the water sparkled and sent the wind skimming over the land in a faint caress. Serenity Bay looked picture-perfect.

He squinted across the lake. That early sailor with two sheets billowing in the wind was bolder than most. The fun seekers he’d once hung around with wouldn’t have endured more than five minutes of this cool April breeze blowing off the barely thawed lake before they’d turn back.

But this sailor didn’t hesitate. The craft continued on a clear, invisible course directed by sure and steady hands, straight toward Jason. The streamlined hull pointed into the wind with gutsy determination. He liked the brashness of it—thrusting ahead on an unswerving course to get where you were going, no matter what.

That’s what he was doing.

Fresh air, pure sunshine and a landscape only the Creator could have fashioned was about all anyone could ask.

Just about.

“Lucky guy.” He wasted several minutes watching the pristine sailboat flit across the water like a butterfly set free from the cocoon of winter. Then he decided it was time to get to work.

He balanced his last cinnamon bun and a thermos of coffee in one hand, pulled the door closed with the other and descended the circular stairs into his office, unable to resist a glance through the wall of windows that overlooked the lake.

The sailboat was making good time. Obviously whoever was operating her knew exactly what he was doing.

At the height of summer when the days were heavy with heat and the promise of cool lake water beckoned, Jason often envied the freedom and peace a sailboat offered. But he freely admitted his knowledge lay in engines, the kind that sent speedboats tearing across the lakes, towing skiers or tube riders through the water. Or the kind that powered fishing boats and let them troll at a leisurely pace. Engines he understood. He could talk motors with the best of them.

But sailing? You needed money for beauties like that sailboat, and men who built marinas in small lake towns that development hadn’t yet reached seldom found cash to spare.

A noise drew his attention to the dock and he stepped outside.

“Hey, Andy. Did you get those rentals all cleaned up?”

“Yes, sir.” Andy saluted him, then grinned. “You find the customers, I’ve got the boats spick-and-span.”

The kid looked like a double for an actor on Gilligan’s Island. That effect was enhanced by a kooky sailor cap Andy loved, but which always slipped to one side of his shiny head.

“Ready to roll, boss. I also swabbed the decks, checked the minnow stock and measured the gas tank. We’re good to go on all counts. Now I’ll get at that painting.”

“Good job.” The boy was an employer’s dream. He took pride in accomplishing his duties before being asked.

Andy reminded Jason of himself, long ago, before he’d learned that fresh-faced eagerness wasn’t necessarily an asset in the corporate world.

“You see that?” Andy’s gaze was also on the trim red craft and the pristine sails. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

The sharp bow cut cleanly through the crest of waves, zooming ever closer, sails puffed out smooth. As they watched, the boat tacked left, turning in a perfect half circle as it headed into the harbor, straight toward them.

“I hope he knows how to bring her in. It’ll cost a fortune if I have to get those docks redone.”

Andy grinned, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, boss. The way that beauty’s moving, there’s no novice at the helm. Man, I’d love a chance to go out in her.”

Who wouldn’t? Jason pretended to busy himself, but he kept close watch as the sailor trimmed his sails perfectly and the delicate red hull slipped easily into dock. He turned away, refusing to let the owner of such magnificence witness his jealousy. Someday, when he retired, maybe he’d get a boat like that.

Someday.

“Ahoy, there. Mind tying me off?”

That voice was familiar. Jason twisted around, watched Andy snatch the line tossed at him and fasten stem and stern so that the sailboat was perfectly docked against Styrofoam buoys that would keep its hull mar free. Golden letters in a delicate font shone from the bow. Shalimar.

The sailboat’s captain accepted Andy’s hand and stepped onto the dock. Once the thick coat was unzipped and he caught a glimpse of her face, Jason realized the sailor was a woman.

Piper Langley.

She tossed her coat inside the hull, then drew the red knitted cap she was wearing from her head and flipped it into the boat, allowing her glossy black curls to dance in the breeze.

“Thank you, kind sir.” She curtsied to Andy, then strode toward Jason. “Good morning, Mayor.”

“Good morning.”

He couldn’t help but stare at her bouncy haircut. It had been a long mane of ebony when they’d first met. He’d dreamed about that hair. He couldn’t decide which style he preferred.

Her ice-blue shirt and matching slacks managed to look both businesslike and chic. The wool jacket added to her polished look, though her eyes weren’t businesslike at all. He swallowed, rejecting the flash of interest that prickled whenever he talked to her.

“I didn’t realize—that is, er…” He hesitated. “You’ll need a car, Miss Langley. The area is large and our public transportation isn’t up to big-city standards.”

She frowned, obviously trying to decipher his curt tone.

“Please call me Piper,” she begged. “I don’t get to sail very often so I thought this would be the perfect way to commute across the lake. I left my car here.” Her gaze brushed over the boat in obvious fondness, then she focused on him and the brown eyes darkened to almost black.

“I paid for the berth. Yesterday.”

Andy hadn’t told him. Jason wished he could time-warp back about an hour and do this all over again. Though it was a little late to explain, he gave it his best shot.

“I wasn’t implying anything. I just wanted to be sure you knew you’d need a car.” Idiot! How old was he that her appearance could knock him for a loop?

“I don’t know whether or not I explained to you when we talked before, Mr. Franklin, but years ago I lived in Serenity Bay. I’m familiar with the need for wheels around here.”

She smiled and it was a glorious thing. Her skin glowed, her eyes shone and her curls danced in the breeze. She was more beautiful than he remembered.

“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that.” Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made an idiot of myself talking about public transportation.

Her gaze held his. A zap of awareness shot between them.

“Well, I did. Six summers, actually.”

“Really?”

“They were some of the best times of my life.”

Which meant—what? That she was here to recapture the past? That her life had taken a downturn and she’d returned to start over?

“That explains your enthusiasm for this place then.” And her knowledge of the economic possibilities in the area.

“I guess.” She continued to watch him, her scrutiny unflinching.

“What do you have planned, Miss Langley?”

“You’re the boss. Shouldn’t you be telling me, Mr. Franklin?” Heavy emphasis on the Mr.

“Actually I didn’t think you would start till Monday.”

“Why wait?”

She stood tall and proud, head tipped back, face impassive as her glance clashed with his. She shifted as if she were eager to get on with things.

Something was tapping. Jason looked down, noticed that her blue shoes matched the blue of her suit perfectly, and that the toe of one was rapping impatiently against the dock.

During his Boston years, Jason had known a lot of women. But he’d never met one who couldn’t stand still for even a few minutes. Piper Langley pulsed with leashed energy.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Franklin?”

“I prefer Jason. We’re informal around here. Okay, Piper?” He smiled, showing there were no hard feelings. “Now perhaps—”

“Wait a minute. Jason. Jason Franklin. Man, I’m slow.” The whispered words slipped through her lips on a breath of recognition.

He froze.

“There was a rather well-known Jason Franklin who gained the reputation of finding fantastic recreation property that developers could evolve into spectacular tourism centers. He worked for a company called Expectations in Boston.” She paused, searching his face while she waited for his response.

“Guilty,” he admitted, heart sinking. “But that was in the past. Now I’m my own boss.” And I like it that way, so don’t ask any more questions.

“Of course.” She nodded, obviously receiving his message loud and clear.

Immediately Jason wondered exactly what she’d heard, and from whom.

“It’s a wonderful marina,” she murmured. “We never had anything like this when I was here.”

“Thank you. I’ve enjoyed putting it together.”

Then in the blink of an eye, Piper Langley became all business.

“I’ve done some preliminary work since you offered me the job of economic development officer. I hope that’s all right?” One finely arched eyebrow quirked up, daring him to say it wasn’t.

“Great.”

“Nothing too risky, but I thought one way to begin getting Serenity Bay on the map might be to initiate a fishing tournament, with a rather large prize. I realize it’s only the first of April, but these things take a while to publicize and we don’t want to miss the season.” She glanced around, took in the lack of customers. “Do you have time to discuss some of my plans now?”

As mayor, he’d made her the offer on behalf of the town council, agreeing to hold the position until she was released from her current job. Her eagerness to get started was a far better beginning than Jason had dared expect.

He’d known she was the right one at their first meeting. Looked as though he was about to be proved correct.

“Now’s a bad time?” The toe was tapping again.

Jason considered his schedule. Saturday. There would be very few people looking for a boat to rent this early in the season. Maybe a couple of guys would drop in looking for new rods and reels, but the majority of the cottagers hadn’t opened up their summer homes yet and those year-round residents who weren’t enjoying the sunshine were more likely to be planting what little garden they could, rather than visiting his marina.

“Now is good,” he agreed. “Why don’t you come inside, into my office? I’ve got some coffee already made.”

“Great.” She followed him. “Thank you.”

Early on in life Jason had learned that tidiness was an asset with inestimable value. Today it proved its worth, especially when he found himself oddly confused by her presence in his personal space.

“Great office.”

“Yes, it is.” Jason checked for sarcasm but her appreciation seemed genuine. He castigated himself for suspecting her motives. Not everybody was insincere.

“I chose this side of the building specifically because of the natural woodlands next door. I don’t have to worry about neighbors building over my view, or at least I hope I won’t. The council hasn’t approved the zoning yet.”

“From here you can see across the entire store and down the marina.” Piper trailed one finger over the metal filing cabinets that bordered his office, but did not obstruct his view. “Smart man. Do you live upstairs?”

“Yes.” Why the sudden curiosity?

“It must be a dream to wake up to this view every morning.”

“You wake up to the same thing, don’t you?” He nodded toward the lake.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, I guess I do.” She chuckled. “I keep forgetting that I’m here for good. Which reminds me—do you know what’s happening up on Lookout Point? I went walking yesterday and noticed someone’s been doing some digging.”

“I have no idea. A telecommunications company has a tower near there, don’t they? Maybe it’s something to do with that. We’ve been begging them to install a higher tower to improve cell phone coverage.”

“Maybe that’s it.” The brown eyes sparkled with interest. “You’ve put a lot of thought into a variety of aspects of development.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Good. You can give me some ideas.” She rubbed her cheek with her thumb, then shrugged. “Seems a shame for land like Lookout Point to be used for something as mundane as a tower. It has spectacular cliffs and a view to die for. And some of the best wild strawberries you’ve ever tasted.”

“I haven’t been over there much. You’re staying nearby?”

“At Cathcart House. It was my grandparents’ and they left it to me. The land from Lookout Point once belonged to my Gran’s family.”

Jason hadn’t lived in Serenity Bay for two years without hearing some of the old-timers rave about the parties at Cathcart House. There was a private beach, private docks, an oversize boathouse and a gazebo for parties on the lawns.

Piper Langley came from money. He probably should have figured that out, given her chic clothes and perfectly styled hair. It made her presence here in the backwoods even more curious.

“The house is far too big for one person, but—” she shrugged “—I love it. Every room is full of memories.”

He envied her that strong sense of family identity. He’d never had it. Maybe that’s why he pushed so hard for Serenity Bay to be the kind of place families could be together.

Most of the time the land acquisition team he’d been part of at Expectations seemed a thousand miles away, part of the distant past. Then he’d remember Trevor and that horrible feeling of being duped and he was right back there. Once he’d almost been willing to sell his soul to buy a piece of Expectations—so deep went his need to be part of something important and fulfilling.

Jason blinked back to reality when Piper swung a briefcase onto his desk. He hadn’t even noticed her carrying it.

“I took the liberty of drafting up a few ideas for you to look over, Jason.” She took a quick look at him over one shoulder as if to check he was listening, then spread charts and graphs across his desk. “I’ve been talking to several corporate heads and put together a list of those who might be willing to chip in as sponsors for different events I’ve planned for the summer.”