Lenora Worth

The Carpenter's Wife


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sign standing beside the rock stated that this was the Wedding Rock, a place where down through the centuries, sailors and fishermen had proposed to their true loves before heading out to sea. The sign also said that often couples got married here in front of the rock, their faces turned toward the ocean as they pledged their love.

      “My parents were so in love, they didn’t care about all that old money back in Savannah. But when my father died, my grandparents tried to make amends. They wanted us to come live with them in Savannah, but on their terms, of course. My mother refused to conform, so we stayed here in what was once the family vacation home, the house she lives in now—the only thing she accepted from her parents—and that was just so we’d have a roof over our heads. Stone got angry with her for refusing their help and their money, and I guess he never got over it. I tried to make him see that we didn’t need them, but he was just twelve years old—you know, that age where peer pressure makes life so hard.

      “The other kids teased us because we wore old clothes and couldn’t afford the things they took for granted. Stone resented our mother for that. I rode him pretty hard back then, trying to make him see that we were going to be okay. But we weren’t okay, really, and I guess I wasn’t the easiest person to live with. Stone hasn’t forgotten. It’s not something we like to talk about.”

      Ana finished reading the historical marker, then turned to Rock. “If you don’t like talking about this, why did you bring me here to this particular restaurant?”

      “The food is good,” he said with logical clarity.

      “But the memories—”

      “Won’t go away,” he finished as he tugged her down on the smooth surface of the rock. “The memories are scattered all over this island, so I quit fighting them long ago.”

      Ana settled down beside him, then held her face up to catch the soft ocean breeze. The wind felt cool on her heated skin, felt good blowing over her hair. “So we both have painful memories. Why is it so hard to let go, Rock?”

      “I don’t know,” he said, his eyes open and honest. “I read a quote once about old memories and young hope. I guess we cling to the sadness of the past in hopes that something better will come along and change the future.”

      “You have a good memory for quotes, at least,” she said, smiling. “I like that.”

      “Really?” He lifted a dark brow, tilting his head toward her. “Most women find my quotes—and me—stuffy and old-fashioned.”

      “I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl, remember?”

      “Yes, I do recall.” He leaned back against the veined rock. “And I apologize. We didn’t get to discuss business very much.”

      “We’ll have tomorrow for business,” she said. Then she ran a hand over the gray-blue rock formation. “The Wedding Rock—very romantic. I bet there are a lot of memories here.”

      He nodded, his eyes shimmering a deep, dark blue. “And young hope for new, better memories to come. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to this spot.”

      Wondering why he had taken Ana to that sad, old pier, Rock walked Ana inside her house, then checked around to make sure everything was intact.

      “We rarely have any crime here on the island,” he told her, hoping to reassure her. “We have a two-man police department and I think they mostly play cards and watch television all day. Or rescue a cat from a tree here and there.” Then he grinned. “Besides, you strike me as a capable, independent woman.”

      “I already have a security system in place,” she told him as she hit buttons on the code box on the hallway wall. “I learned the hard way in Savannah—my apartment got robbed once.”

      Rock waited, wondering what he should do or say. He was uncomfortable now that he’d revealed some of his family secrets to Ana. But she didn’t seem to be holding that against him. Thinking it might be best if he just went on home, he said, “About those plans—I’ll come by first thing in the morning with some sketches and ideas. I think we can have your cabinets renovated and your pantry shelves built right on time.”

      “Good,” she said as she automatically checked the phone sitting lonely and misplaced on the hallway floor. “Oh, I have a message. Do you mind if I check it?”

      “Go ahead. I need to be going, anyway.”

      He was about to leave, but she held up a hand while she waited for the recorder.

      A feminine voice said, “Hi, Ana. It’s me. Listen, I really need your help. I have to do some extensive traveling this summer—we’re working on buying up a big spot of land near Atlanta for development. This just came up and I’m still trying to sell that land I own over near Savannah, so I was wondering if…well, I might need your help with the girls. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”

      Rock watched as Ana’s expression went from mild interest to a keen awareness. She seemed to stiffen, her eyes glazing over with what looked like dread. “Everything okay?” he asked, to break the silence that creaked through the old house.

      Ana sighed, clicked the delete button on the message machine. “That was my sister, Tara,” she said. “I have a feeling I’m about to be hit up to baby-sit all summer.”

      “And open a new business, too? That might be hard.”

      “Tara doesn’t stop to think about things like that. She’s a workaholic—so she expects everyone else to be the same. The only problem is, since her husband died, she’s poured herself into her work even more, and now, I’m afraid she’s neglecting her three daughters.”

      “Reminds me of my mother—and Stone, too,” Rock said before thinking. “Not that he’s married with children. But he works 24/7. Guess he did get a couple of my mother’s traits.”

      “Maybe we should introduce Tara and him,” Ana said with a skeptical smile. Then she added, “Don’t get me wrong. Tara loves her girls. It’s just been…hard on all of us since Chad died. I don’t think Tara even realizes that the girls are still grieving, too. They are acting out in all sorts of ways, but she can’t seem to connect on why.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” Rock said, coming to lean on the wall opposite her. “But it sounds very familiar. Our mother at least understood…when our father died. She tried to comfort us, but then she got caught up in her work and we somehow learned to fend for ourselves most days. I don’t know, though, if a child ever gets over that kind of grief.”

      Ana nodded. “That’s the way it’s been with the girls lately. All teenagers now, too.”

      “Wow. And she’s going to pass them off on you?”

      “I love them. And Tara doesn’t trust anyone else. My parents are at that age where they travel a lot, when they aren’t sick or volunteering. The girls can be a handful, so they can’t keep them for more than a few days at a time. And Chad’s parents live out in Texas—Ana won’t let the girls go that far away over the summer. She’s there with them now, for a short visit, but I doubt the girls will want to stay in Texas all summer. That leaves me, I guess.”

      “And me,” Rock heard himself saying. “Listen, Ana, this is small island. Everyone knows everyone. We all watch out for each other. We can help with the girls.”

      She looked up at him, awe sparkling in her green eyes. “You’d do that…for me?”

      “Of course. Mother would love it, too, I’m sure. They can swim, run around the village, learn to make pottery. There’s lots to entertain teenagers here.”

      “You haven’t met these three yet—they are eleven, thirteen and fourteen—going on thirty.”

      Rock leaned forward, taking in the sight of Ana standing there in the semidarkness, her fiery hair wind-tossed, the scent of the ocean still surrounding her. “If they are anything like their aunt, I can’t wait to meet them.”

      Ana