Chapter 23
“Grace is here with Jacob.”
Noah didn’t miss the smug note of satisfaction in Isaiah’s voice as he looked up from his laptop. “She is? But—”
“I guess she changed her mind.”
“I guess she did,” Noah agreed. He tried to figure out how he felt about that and failed. He was glad Grace had come up to the house, but he also felt a certain trepidation at seeing her again. He hated the thought that he’d hurt her, even if it was to keep himself from hurting her more.
“Are you going to go down and greet her?” Isaiah demanded, and Noah sighed.
“Yes, Isaiah, I am,” he replied patiently. “Give me a second, okay?”
He rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw and glanced down at his sweater, complete with the usual holes in the elbows—his seemed very pointy—and a ragged hem, as well as faded jeans he’d worn two days running.
Not that he ever made much of an effort, but he wished he felt a little more prepared, especially when he was pretty sure Grace would be as stunningly lovely as ever.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, still rubbing his jaw as he headed downstairs while Isaiah, in true matchmaker fashion, melted away.
Grace was standing in the foyer, holding Jacob’s hand, and looking just as lovely as Noah knew she would.
She was wearing her thrift store clothes—baggy jeans and a dark green fleece, both which were too big for her slight frame and yet still she looked beautiful, her hair pulled back in a low knot at the nape of her neck, with a few wisps framing her face.
She’d looked great in a paper bag, Noah reflected ruefully, although as he came closer he saw that her skin was pale, almost translucent, and there were violet smudges under her wide gray eyes. His fault. He was sure of it.
“Hello,” he greeted them both, his voice sounding croaky, so he had to clear his throat. “Nice to see you, Jacob.” He didn’t look directly at Grace, didn’t dare.
Jacob slipped his hand from Grace’s and ran toward Noah, tackling him about his knees so he couldn’t help but laugh in surprise. It was the first time the boy had shown him true affection, and it touched him in a way that felt both good and painful.
“Hey there,” he said softly, briefly ruffling the boy’s hair, while he slid Grace a sneaky sideways glance. She was staring at them both, her expression both troubled and resolute.
“I’ll come back in an hour,” she said abruptly, and then wheeled around and walked outside.
Okay then. They clearly were not on talking terms, never mind friendly ones. Noah glanced down at Jacob and ruffled his hair again. “You ready to play some chess?” he asked, and the little boy nodded, grinning.
Maybe he’d get a chance to talk to Grace when she returned, Noah reflected, and then again, maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, he knew he was going to have to go with it. His brief foray into friendship seemed to have come to its inevitable and unfortunate end.
Grace marched back down the path toward Grayhaven’s gates, wishing she hadn’t been so abrupt but not knowing how to be otherwise.
Just seeing Noah again had caused a prickly flush to break out over her whole body, the equivalent of emotional hives.
She remembered exactly how his lips had felt on hers, so slack and still and unresponsive, and she’d wanted to curl into a cringing ball of shame all over again.
She’d told herself, on several occasions, not to be so immature about the whole thing, but it was hard when she’d put herself out there in a way she never did and had gotten so soundly rejected. It was hard not to take it personally. Extremely personally.
“Grace!”
Grace’s steps slowed as she turned to see Isaiah waving to her from the garden gate. He’d been the one to answer the door, but Grace hadn’t invited conversation, as much as she liked the gentle old man. She suspected he suspected something of what had gone on, and she couldn’t bear that, either.
Now she suppressed an inward sigh as she forced a smile. “Hi, Isaiah.”
“I’m so glad you came for the chess lesson after all.”
“Well, Jacob insisted,” Grace replied with an attempt at a laugh. “But I need to get back now, so…”
“Be patient,” Isaiah said in a rush, his faded eyes anxious. “With Noah.”
This time Grace couldn’t suppress the sigh.
“Isaiah, it’s not like that,” she said with a shake of her head.
She’d already suspected the old man was matchmaking, but now he was clearly choosing not to hold his cards close to his chest. The thought that he might be saying similar things to Noah made her want to curl up in shame yet again.
She was thirty-four, for heaven’s sake, with a marriage and a divorce under her belt.
She didn’t need to conduct this relationship, or any relationship, like she was in junior high, passing notes or telling so-and-so to tell Noah what she felt… or what he didn’t.
Which begged the question, Grace acknowledged wryly, why she was acting like she was in junior high, refusing to talk or even look at Noah. She really needed to get over herself.
“His brother’s death hurt him,” Isaiah continued quietly. “A lot. He’s still recovering—”
“I know,” Grace interrupted him, doing her best to keep her voice gentle.
“And I appreciate that, truly. But Isaiah… I don’t think either of us is in the right place for a relationship, no matter what you might want.
” Saying as much out loud made her cringe—again—but she wanted to be honest. Besides, it wasn’t like a relationship between them was even an option.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, “but whatever romantic notions you’re nurturing for him—and I know you care for him a lot—are not going to happen with me.
” She smiled to take any sting from her words and then, with a wave of farewell, turned to walk back down the drive, toward the lane that led to the fishermen’s cottages and the warden’s lodge.
As she strolled past, Jethro, the retired fisherman who had returned from Florida, came out onto his back porch and watched her, his hands on his hips, his expression settled into a familiar scowl.
Over the last few weeks, Grace had seen him several times and knew him only to wave to.
He seemed as grumpy as Bab had warned, and so they’d never made any real chitchat.
Now he called out, his voice carrying, “Seems like you’re up at the big house plenty, missy. ”
Grace groaned inwardly. How could there be so much gossip on an island with a population of nine? Maybe that was why there was.
“Chess lessons for my son!” she called back, doing her best to sound cheerful, and then stepped up her pace as she headed back to the lodge.
Once she was safely inside, however, Grace found she couldn’t quite settle to anything.
She messed around with the new website she was creating for the nature reserve, and then worked on the proposal she wanted to present to Isaiah, but after only a few minutes she felt too restless to keep at it, and so she got up to fill the kettle for a cup of tea, staring out at the ocean, its waves dancing and glinting under the spring sunshine, as she waited for it to boil.
She’d already been living on Lighthouse Cove Island for nearly a whole month.
By the time her six-month contract finished, she needed to have a plan for her future.
Jacob would need to go back to school—he was meant to be starting first grade somewhere in September—and she needed to figure out a job, a home.
Where she wanted to live, what she wanted to do, assuming it wasn’t here.
She knew the six-month contract could be renewed, but could she seriously think about staying in such a remote place long term?
She supposed Jacob could go to school on the mainland, but she’d never seen her life here as more than temporary.
At least not until she’d arrived, and gotten to know Noah, and started dreaming about what the nature reserve could be…
But were those kinds of dreams dangerous? Maybe it would be better to start new again, even if right now that seemed overwhelming.
She’d been without a real purpose for too long, Grace reflected, and being the warden here had given her a taste of what it was like to be useful and productive.
So maybe she needed to think about her future and what it could hold, rather than worry about what was happening with her life here on the island, when she knew she wouldn’t be here for very long.
The kettle clicked off, and Grace set about making tea. Tonight, after Jacob was in bed, she’d go online and look at some potential job openings. She might have five more months here, but she could still focus on her future rather than the what-if that was definitely not happening.
The thought should have made her feel better, but for some reason it didn’t.
Grace took her tea back to the sofa, curling up on one corner just like she had the other day, when she and Noah had shared so many personal, private things. But why was she thinking about that? Him? Still?
Yes, their heart-to-heart had felt intimate and important, especially for her, when she hadn’t shared that stuff about Brad with anyone. There had been no one to share it with. But it had been one conversation, one barely-there kiss, and she needed to forget all about it. Him.
Determined to refocus her thoughts, Grace sipped her tea and flipped through a magazine until it was time to pick Jacob up.
She knew she could have used a free hour far more productively, but right then she was just glad it was over.
She’d fetch Jacob and give him a little iPad time before dinner, and she could work on the website a little more.
Hopefully Isaiah would be waiting with him by the door, and she wouldn’t even have to see Noah.
That, of course, turned out to be so much wishful thinking.
Grace was only halfway up the drive when the front door opened and Noah stood there, framed by the doorway, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
He looked like a modern-day Heathcliff, rumpled and brooding and gorgeous.
He also looked intent, and she suspected he wanted to have a conversation.
One she already knew she did not want to have.
Sure enough, she was still ten feet away from the door when he jerked his chin up in a nod of greeting and asked in a low voice, “Grace… can we talk?”