Chapter 4

 

Elora rolled down her window and breathed a sigh of contentment as she drove back to town. The breeze ruffled her wild locks. She braced her elbow on the window ledge as she held the tangle out of her eyes. The fingers of her other hand tapped along the steering wheel in time to I’ll Always Be There, a song full of poignant promise by Roch Voisine.

The lyrics made her think of Danny. She remembered how it had felt to be held in his strong arms. Her memory embroidered the incident all out of proportion. She smiled. In the perfect fantasy world he would always be there. Like a knight in shining armour he would always come riding to her rescue. Never mind that he’d been rescuing the pro shop from her supposed purloining at their initial encounter.

Before she knew it, she was driving along the main street of downtown Lunenburg. She loved Lunenburg. Not just because it was such a small town of only three thousand where practically everyone knew everybody else’s business, but she loved the look and feel of the tiny fishing village.

Picturesque bright red and brilliant blue buildings lined the harbour front. Several docks, piled high with lobster traps, jutted out into the water. Fishing boats of all description filled the bay. Well-kept, brightly painted clapboard houses in varying architectural styles rose into the rolling hills up behind the tree-lined main street. At the top of Gallows Hill one could see the spires from a couple of old churches and the four towers from the Lunenburg Academy. And above all, on a prominent rise overlooking everything like a grand old dame, presided the stately Barons Hotel where she and Caitlin had been living for the past three months.

Originally they’d stayed with Veronica and Patrick once Elora had been released from the hospital, but Ronnie’s terrible morning sickness at the time had prompted the move to surroundings where more people could better care for Elora’s welfare. The hotel had been a natural choice, what with Warren McLean, the manager, being her godfather and half the staff her close personal friends.

Elora inhaled deeply. She enjoyed the pervasive aroma of saltwater, seaweed, fish and lobsters that perennially laced the air. All of these things combined, which made up the essence of the sea, meant home, love, and comfort. Elora wound her way through town, waving to people she knew, and laughing outright at some of their startled double takes when they identified the woman with the wild blonde hair.

The closely-knit community life in Lunenburg suited Elora and Caitlin just fine. The locals were all open and friendly, with an honest down-home attitude towards life, and a fierce protectiveness of her since she’d come home to stay after her string of tragedies.

Many of the first families had originated from German, Swiss, and French immigrants who had founded the town in the early 1750s. Lunenburg, originally a French fishing harbour, was now one of the most important fishing ports in the province of Nova Scotia. It had also been the homeport to the swiftest schooner and undefeated champion of the North Atlantic Fishing Fleet, the Bluenose, which had been commemorated with an etching of its likeness on the Canadian dime.

And in recent years, Lunenburg had added figure skater gold medallist Elora St. James to its impressive list of amenities. Elora sighed. Her greatest triumph had led to her greatest tragedy.

Hours after her encounter with the handsome stranger, and after having accomplished most of her errands, Elora guided her car through the downtown core and up the hill into the residential section where Caitlin’s play school was situated in a large, wooden clapboard house that had been freshly painted a bright blue. To ensure the children’s safety, a traditional white picket fence encircledthe school. An old lobster trap, incongruously spilling with colourful flowers, adorned the front yard.

Elora faced the steep steps leading up into the Kiddie Kollege and braced herself to climb them. She tucked a box of assorted Timbits, which she’d picked up from the local Tim Hortons coffee shop, and a gaily-wrapped gift, that she’d purchased after her annual financial review at the bank, under her arm, then she grabbed the wooden handrail, and step by slow, agonizing step hoisted herself up. It was amazing how much one took for granted.

There had been a time, not so long ago, when she could do a triple lutz, followed by a double axle, and come down into a flawless layback spin without having given it anything more than a second thought. Now, she had to give all her concentration to inching forward, one single step at a time.

She called a hello through the screen door before letting herself into the nursery school’s front foyer. Sounds of children playing wafted down the hallway from the main play area, which had at one time been an impressive great room. Elora peered around the corner and spotted Caitlin holding court with several friends and a variety of dolls and stuffed animals. Mrs. Jenkins, the supervisor, joined Elora in watching the kids for a minute. Elora passed the gift to Mrs. Jenkins.

“Please make sure Caitlin takes this with her at the end of the afternoon.”

“She’s a real treasure.” Mrs. Jenkins placed the parcel on a ledge along the wall above a peg where Caitlin’s jacket hung. “A joy to have around.”

“I know,” Elora agreed. Her heart lifted as she watched her niece, who had in recent years become more special to her than any daughter could ever be. A child stumbled and Caitlin went immediately to his aid before one of the other student teachers could intervene. “She’s a real mother hen.” 

The youngster let Caitlin fuss for a minute then ran off to play with someone else. Caitlin bounded back to the tea party she was hosting, cinnamon coloured pigtails bouncing with every jaunty step.

Suddenly Caitlin looked up and spotted Elora standing by the door. “Mommy!” she squealed. She abandoned her playmates and toys and launched herself across the room. “Mommy!”

Elora leaned back against the wall and braced herself for the impact. Holding the cane in one hand and the box of goodies in the other, she was unable to open her arms to receive the child. But that didn’t matter to Caitlin. She flung her arms around Elora’s thighs and grinned up at her, hazel eyes sparkling in delight.

“Your hair looks funny,” Caitlin said breathlessly, then she asked, “Why’re you here?”

“Look what I got for you to share with all your friends.” Elora shook the box of donut holes.

“Yummy yum yum,” Caitlin answered. “You bemembered.” She snatched at the box and bore it triumphantly back into the room where she was soon the centre of attention. “Seed what I got.” Another girl tried to snatch the treasure from her hands. Caitlin held it up and announced, “Not here. Snacks in the kitchen.” Before another child could rob her of the treat, Mrs. Jenkins took the doughnuts and led a procession from the room, down a corridor, and into the kitchen at the back.

Caitlin, momentarily caught up in the excitement, almost danced away, but then she stopped suddenly and ran back to Elora. “Thank you, Mommy,” she said. Elora bent down to gather the daughter of her heart close. “You’re the bestest mommy in the whole wide world.”

“And you’re the bestest Caitlin Anne.”

Elora pointed to the brightly papered and beribboned gift on the rack. “For Mandy’s party tonight,” she said.

“What is it?” Caitlin asked in a loud stage whisper.

“A surprise,” Elora whispered back.

“I love surprises,” Caitlin squealed. “I’m glad you’re my mommy.” Caitlin reached up on tiptoe to plant a fat kiss on Elora’s cheek. “I yuv you.” She pressed her tiny body against Elora’s chest. Elora inhaled Caitlin’s three-year-old baby soft sweetness.

“Love you, too,” she whispered. She hugged her close, then straightened and sent Caitlin on her way. “Better run,” she said. “Before all the Timbits are gone.”

Caitlin bounded away, pigtails flying as she raced in the direction of happy chattering and munching sounds. Elora watched her go. She thanked her lucky stars that she still had Caitlin. She smiled softly. This special child of her heart made all things bearable.

Elora let herself back out into the afternoon sun. She shaded her eyes and glanced around. Further along, and much higher up, sat the stately old Barons Hotel. It was a landmark in this town, along with some of the oldest churches in Canada. History permeated Lunenburg. She longed to lose herself in the distant past. Recent history hurt too much.

There had been a time when she could walk at a brisk pace from here to the hotel in twenty minutes. Not anymore. Before she lapsed back into what Ronnie referred to as a pity party, she shoved the destructive emotion aside. She forced a smile on her face, climbed into her car, and drove back along Main Street. She had a few last errands to run before she could get back to work at the hotel.

A little while later, Elora sauntered slowly along the main street with her head held high. She did her best to keep the cane’s use to a minimum. To her astonishment a “new” voice called her name.

“Lori?”

She turned and saw Danny striding swiftly to catch up to her. He was tall and bronzed, still dressed in his comfortable golf outfit, and wore his cap low on his brow. He looked wonderful.

“Danny.”

Her heart did a little flying camel spin at the sight of him. The smile that tugged at her mouth upon seeing him again froze when she saw what he held outstretched in his hand. Everything within her froze. Time around her came to a standstill. A deathly standstill. Had he been holding a gun pointed straight at her heart, her reaction would have been no different.

Elora stared at her shoe.

Her blood ran cold. Innocently the offending item sat perched across his open palm. She didn’t have to look down at her foot to know it was hers. She had bought these ugly, sensible shoes just last week.

Oh, God. When had she lost it? She had no feeling in her artificial foot. How long had she been walking without the shoe? And why, of all people, did it have to be Danny who found it? There was no justice in the world.

“You seem to have left something behind.” Danny grinned as he held the shoe out to her.

Everything inside of her seemed to shut down all at once. If only a hole would magically appear and swallow her up.

“Let me help you put it back on,” he offered.

“No.”

“I promise I won’t tickle.” One corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other. His dark grey eyes twinkled.

“No.”

She snatched the shoe from his hand and held it protectively to her breast. Her heartbeat accelerated into painful action. She couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes.

“I know in the fairytale that when the prince returns the shoe to the princess it’s taken as a marriage proposal. Now, even though you may look like a fairy princess,” Elora felt the last drops of blood drain from her head at his choice of name for her, “I know I’m no Prince Charming. So instead of marriage, would you settle for a cup of coffee?”

The only thing that kept her from falling was the cane. That, and grim determination.

“No,” she repeated for the umpteenth time. She licked at suddenly dry lips. From the depths of her being she called upon hidden reserves of strength to see her through this ordeal. “I’m sorry I can’t,” she elaborated. “I’m very busy.” She glanced down at her watch, not able to focus her whirling thoughts enough to read the time. “I’m late for an appointment already.” 

“Right, I forgot,” Danny said.

“What?” Elora couldn’t fathom what he was talking about.

“Bookkeeping,” Danny explained. “That’s what you were doing up at the golf course wasn’t it? Collecting accounts.”

She could only nod and repeat, “And I’m late.” Let him believe what he wanted, she wasn’t about to enlighten him.

Elora couldn’t get away fast enough from Danny. With her heart in her throat she hobbled painfully the remaining distance to her car. She unlocked the car door and practically fell onto the seat where she tried to force the recalcitrant shoe back onto her foot. It refused to fit. Without a shoehorn the darned thing wouldn’t go on.

Tears stung the back of her eyes as she wrestled with her predicament. Finally, she yanked a comb out of her purse and used the long pointy end to help pry the loathsome foot back into the obnoxious shoe.

In, out. In, out. She breathed deeply as she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She made a mental note to always, always carry shoehorns with her wherever she went. She then put the car in gear, pulled out into traffic, and drove the short distance up the hill to the hotel, all the while willing herself not to give in to the overwhelming emotion pushing hot and hard behind her eyelids.

Think of work, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. Think of how much you enjoy coming here each day. Think of what a beautiful place this is.

And it was a beautifully appointed nineteenth-century mansion, fully restored to its former glory and furnished throughout with fine, period antiques. It sat majestically on a spacious lot, amidst attractive grounds that commanded a magnificent view of the Atlantic Ocean. For a mansion in its day it had been quite large boasting three stories with thirty-two rooms, all now beautifully furnished, and each fully modernized with its own private en suite bath.

Local legend had it that the original owner of the mansion, most likely a sea-faring captain or privateer, had it built from the wealth he’d garnered in rum running up and down the coast. Elora didn’t doubt the story, as rum running had been a very lucrative business back in those days.

Thinking of rum, and other spirits she had to order, Elora’s thoughts were soon back on track in business mode. Think of work, only of work, and not of dark grey eyes, she admonished herself. She seated herself behind the antique desk in the hotel’s office, fired up the computer and buckled down to work. Anything to take her mind off Danny and the effect his brief appearance was having on her nervous system.

If only…. She ruthlessly quashed that thought. Where he and she were concerned, there was no such thing as “if only.” “If only” had died with the loss of her foot – or had it died earlier with the loss of her family? Whatever. There was no such thing as “if only” anymore, or even hope for that matter. There was only endurance. No matter what life threw her way, she vowed to endure it. She’d survive, she always did – somehow.

The door to her office opened. She smiled up at the restaurant’s maitre d’, who entered bearing a laden tray.

“Thanks, Perry.” She made room on her desk for her ritual cappuccino and cookies. “Do you have time to join me?”

“Not today, I’m afraid.” He set a plate of shortbread cookies down beside her cup. “It’s Wednesday night, in case you might have forgotten. And the restaurant’s already starting to get busy.”

After he left she sighed in contentment as she sipped her beverage. This was the life. She leaned back and nibbled on a cookie. She loved managing the Barons Hotel, much more so than managing Castleview. She wondered if she could convince the absent owner to hire her on here once Warren McLean’s retirement became official. Then she could turn around and hire someone else better suited to the running of the golf course.

Hours later she pushed back from her chair, stretched, and emerged from the office blinking like a mole. “Hi, Sally,” she greeted the on-duty receptionist.

“Hey, Lori,” Sally said. “You curled and dyed your hair. Looks nice.” She shuffled some papers into a neat stack.

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Caitlin?” Sally pushed a pair of thin, gold-framed glasses higher up on the bridge of her pert nose. Her youthful expression darted eagerly about as she looked for the child.

“Birthday party. I have to pick her up from Mandy’s at seven.” Elora stretched again.

“I get off then,” Sally said. “I’ll go get her. Why don’t you go and enjoy a leisurely supper? I know Boris has been wanting you to try his latest experiment.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that.”

“Don’t rush,” Sally ordered. “If I don’t see you out here, I’ll take the munchkin up to your room and get her ready for bed.” She laughed. “I’m going to miss her when you move back home.”

“You can baby-sit whenever you want,” Elora promised. “I won’t even charge you for the privilege.”

Elora left her cane propped up in the corner of the reception desk. She’d been practicing more and more without it, feeling her independence grow as her need for the crutch lessened. She longed for the day when she wouldn’t need it anymore.

Limping only slightly, Elora joined Perry, the maitre d’, at the entrance to the Captain’s Table Restaurant. Perry, a contemporary of hers from high school days, had worked his way up within the Barons’ organization from busboy to waiter to becoming the head maitre d’, a position he excelled at. It helped that he acted in the local drama club and could bring that polish to bear on his job.

On anyone else the cloth draped over the sleeve of his black jacket would have looked goofy. Perry, with his slim, dark good looks managed to appear the consummate professional.

Elora noted the weeknight crowd and was pleased. Wednesday nights had become known for Boris Romanow’s gourmet special, an idea Elora had launched with the master chef’s whole-hearted enthusiasm less than two months before.

“No little miss?” Perry asked.

“Birthday party.”

“Despite the crowd tonight, I’ve managed to keep your usual table by the window free.”

Elora followed Perry until a familiar dark-blond head, bent over a paperback novel, caught the corner of her eye. She quelled the rising panic; she had nothing to fear from this man. In her heart of hearts she knew that. Running away again would not solve anything. If nothing else, she had learned from her demanding professional career to always face her demons, to rise and conquer every challenge thrown her way.

The subtle scent of his reassuring woodsy after-shave drifted up to her. Not questioning her instincts, she veered off. She rested her hand on the empty chair opposite Danny, steadied her quaking nerves by inhaling sharply, then asked, “Mind if I join you?”