Sherryl Woods

Patrick's Destiny


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pass along the message she’d learned, assuming they ever crossed paths again.

      She was about to leave school for the day when the screechy public address system in her room came on with a burst of static. “Alice, my office now, please,” Mrs. Dowd said in her usual tart manner.

      Alice sighed. She thought they’d already been over today’s transgression and moved on. Apparently she’d been wrong. Maybe Matt Foster had called and made an issue of what had happened to Ricky. Maybe he’d forced the principal’s hand.

      Gathering her things, she headed for the office, filled with a sense of dread. Even though living in Widow’s Cove hadn’t yet brought her the peace she’d hoped for, she didn’t want to leave, and that was exactly what being fired would mean, since there was no other kindergarten class for miles and miles along this remote stretch of coast.

      She tapped lightly on the principal’s door, then walked in when the woman’s sharp tone summoned her.

      “There’s something I thought you should know before you go off on break for the next week,” Loretta Dowd said, a surprising hint of a smile on her usually stern lips.

      “Yes?”

      “Patrick Devaney was here.”

      Alice stared at her. Had he come to complain that she wasn’t responsible, that she had no business being in charge of a classroom full of children?

      “Why?” she asked, barely able to squeeze the word out past the sudden lump in her throat.

      “I believe he wanted to save your job if it was in jeopardy. I told him it wasn’t, but I think the attempt spoke very well of him, don’t you?”

      Alice nodded, too shocked for words. Patrick had come rushing to her rescue? He’d been furious with her. Obviously someone was behind it. Molly perhaps. Of course, as fast as news spread in Widow’s Cove, it could have been anyone. Few people in town hesitated to share their opinions of right and wrong under the guise of being helpful. Someone had definitely given him a nudge, no question about it.

      “Be sure to thank him when you see him,” the principal said, a twinkle in her eyes.

      “I hadn’t planned—”

      “The man dove into the icy water to save one of your students,” Mrs. Dowd said, cutting her off. “And then he came charging into my office to save you. Don’t you think the least you can do would be to take him some homemade soup as an expression of gratitude?”

      Alice stared at her, trying to process this bit of advice. If she wasn’t mistaken, Loretta Dowd was matchmaking. “What are you up to?” she asked, stunned that the woman even had an interest in Alice’s love life.

      The principal drew herself up and gave Alice one of her most daunting looks. “I am not up to anything,” she declared fiercely, but the indignation came too late.

      Alice could see quite clearly now that Loretta Dowd was a complete and total fraud. She was not the strict, unfeeling disciplinarian everyone feared. She had a heart.

      “If you can’t make soup, I made a fresh pot of chowder this morning,” the principal added.

      Alice grinned. “I can make soup. In fact, I made some last night and there’s plenty left. I baked several loaves of bread, too.”

      “Well then, what are you standing around here for?” Mrs. Dowd said with her familiar exasperation. “Get on over to that boy’s boat before he catches his death of cold.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Relieved to have an excuse to force her to do what she’d been half wanting to do, anyway, Alice walked to her house, filled a container with some of her homemade beef vegetable soup, added a loaf of her home-baked bread to the basket, and headed right back to Patrick Devaney’s private, No Trespassing dock.

      Once there, she took a certain perverse pleasure in pushing open the flimsy gate and making a lot of noise as she approached his trawler. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when he emerged from below deck with a scowl already firmly in place.

      “Which part of ‘stay away’ didn’t you understand?” he inquired, leaping gracefully onto the dock and blocking her way.

      “I figured it didn’t apply to me, since I come bearing gifts,” she said cheerfully, holding out the soup and bread as she took note of the fact that there were several new boards in place underfoot. “You never mentioned the fact that you were in that freezing ocean because of me—”

      “Because of Ricky,” he corrected.

      She shrugged at the distinction. “I thought some hot soup might ward off a chill. I don’t want it on my conscience if you get sick because of what happened. Besides, I need to thank you for going to see Mrs. Dowd this afternoon. She was impressed.”

      His mouth curved into an arrogant grin that made her heart do an unexpected flip.

      “I don’t get sick,” he informed her. “And I didn’t go by the school to impress Loretta Dowd.”

      “Which makes it all the more fascinating that you did,” she replied. “As for your general state of good health, having some nutritious soup won’t hurt.”

      “You casting aspersions on Molly’s chowder?”

      “Hardly, but you must be tired of that by now.”

      The grin faded. “Meaning?”

      She faltered. She hadn’t meant to admit that she knew anything about his habits. “She says you’re there a lot, that’s all.”

      “You asked about me?” He didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise.

      The arrogant tilt to his mouth returned, and Alice saw a faint hint of the charming boy he’d once been. She wasn’t here to inflate his already well-developed ego, though. “I most certainly did not,” she said. “Molly tends to volunteer information she thinks will prove helpful.”

      He sighed at that. “Yeah. I keep talking to her about that. She seems to think she can save me from myself if she gets enough people pestering me.”

      “What do you think?” Alice asked curiously.

      “That I don’t need saving.”

      She laughed. “I keep telling her the same thing. It hasn’t stopped her yet. Now we’ve both got Loretta Dowd meddling in our lives. She’s the one who insisted on the soup. We’re probably doomed.”

      “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I imagine Mrs. Dowd will want to know exactly how polite I was when you came over here. She and Caleb Jenkins will probably compare notes.”

      “How on earth did Caleb get involved in this?” Alice asked.

      “He thought I should speak to Mrs. Dowd on your behalf.”

      “Ah, that explains the trip to the school. I guessed it wasn’t your idea.”

      “Oh, I suppose I would have come around to it sooner or later on my own,” he claimed. “The point is, there are any number of fascinated bystanders in this town. I’ll hear about it if I act ungrateful and send you away.” He pushed off from the railing and held out his hand. “You want to come aboard and share a bowl of that soup? Looks to me like there’s plenty for two.”

      Alice hesitated. Wasn’t this the real reason she’d come, to see if she and Patrick Devaney had as much in common as it seemed? Wasn’t she here because of that feeling of kinship that had sparked to life in her earlier?

      “Are you sure?” she asked. “You don’t seem very receptive to company.” She nodded toward the No Trespassing sign.

      He gave her a steady, intense look. “It doesn’t apply to invited guests, and where you’re concerned, I’m not sure of anything,” he said in a way that sent a surprising shiver of awareness racing over her.

      “Want