Part 8 (1/2)

By the time she walked downstairs to breakfast, Smokey had convinced herself that she had no reason whatsoever to worry.

standing before the mirror in her room, Smokey frowned at her reflection. She had tried to do a little something different with her hair, but it had been no use; she felt all thumbs.

With only enough pins for her usual hairstyle, nothing she had tried looked quite right.

With a resigned sigh, she whipped it into its usual bun and then stared at herself in disappointment. She knew very well that none of this had made a bit of difference to her before she had seen Jenny's hair and wardrobe, or met her handsome brother.

Why did Dallas havs to come now? I had really hoped we would miss each other this visit.

Smokey's mind went back to the day she had seen him on the dock in London. It had been torture to walk by and not speak to him. She'd gained her s.h.i.+p and watched him from the deck until he was out of sight.

I don't know myself anymore. For so long my life was well ordered. I had my work and performed it well. Now, I feel discontent and confused.

Smokey took time to pray about her feelings and surrender them to G.o.d Her heart calmed, and she realized that Dallas'

visit didn't necessarily mean they would see each other. After all, she was going on a walk this morning and then meeting Buck for lunch. Tomorrow she planned to leave.

”Well, Buck,” Dallas spoke in surprise when the older man came to the breakfast table. ”You must have a date for lunch to be out of bed this early.” Dallas' question stemmed from the fact that Buck was a night person. He loved to stay up late and sleep late. Dallas tended to be just the opposite.

”Indeed, I do.” Buck answered his brother as he sugared the coffee just served to him.

”The lovely widow Rittenhouse?” Dallas asked expectantly.

”No,” Buck'svoice became quiet. Dallas carefully watched his face. ”She thinks we should see other people. She also thinks she's still in love with her first husband and wants to be loyal to his memory.”

”When did this happen?”

”Three days ago.”

”I'm sorry, Buck.” Dallas' compa.s.sion was real. ”I know you really care for her.”

”You're right, I do, and for that reason I'm not going to give up. I'm going to give her some time and then see if she's missed me as much as I already miss her.”

”But in the meantime, you're going to see other women?”

Buck frowned at him in confusion, but then shook his head. ”No, my lunch date is just a friend What are your plans for the day?”

”I need to see Jenny this morning. It was too late to go last night,” Dallas told him. ”After that I've some work to do on the Zephyr. In fact, I'd best be on my way. I'll see you later, Buck.”

”All right, Dolly. Take care.”

68.

Smokey walked along at an easy pace, her long coat slap ping at her legs. The sea was a cloudy gray today, the sky overcast. It felt like it could snow at any time. Not headed anyplace in particular, Smokey felt she could walk for hours.

She kept a steady pace until she spotted a beautiful home, painted a bright white, sitting on a small point of land Smokey stopped to drink in the scene.

Much like Jenny and Tate's, huge windows looked out over the Atlantic on both the first and second floor. On either side of this large home, however, were rounded rooms whose walls were nothing but gla.s.s. Smokey's inspection ended with the dormer windows in the roof, which gave the house a three-story look.

”h.e.l.lo.”

She jumped at the sound of a female voice but looked up to see that the woman was smiling.

”I'm sorry if I disturbed you,” Smokey told her, ”but I was admiring your lovely home.”

The woman, having just been on a walk herself, turned with Smokey and stared up at the great house. ”It is a beautiful home,” she spoke quietly. ”But it hasn't been the same since my husband died”

The woman turned to stare at Smokey then, as though surprised she had admitted such a thing to a complete stranger.

Her face cleared when she recalled her manners.

”I'm Greer Rittenhouse,” she voiced with a smile. ”Are you walking anywhere in particular?”

”No. I'm staying with Tate and Jennifer Pemberton. My name is Victoria Simmons.”

Greer's eyes now held recognition. ”Of course, Buck mentioned you.”

”Oh, you must be the woman Buck is seeing.”

”Well,” the lovely widow looked rather uncomfortable.

”We're not dating right now, just friends.”

”I'm sorry. That was rude of me.”

”It's all right. You couldn't have known.”

69.

The women looked to the house again, and Smokey was very pleased when Mrs. Rittenhouse asked if she would like to see the inside.

It was more lovely than Smokey could have imagined The huge windows to the east that Smokey had seen outside gave a view of the sea to rival that on her s.h.i.+p. The round rooms at the corners of the house were the most lovely sitting rooms Smokey had ever seen.

”It's a wonderful home,” Smokey said with a touch of awe in her voice.

”Yes, it holds many happy memories, but I'm not sure I want to keep it.”