Chapter 1
Lucy came home to an empty house. She had really enjoyed having Gus Casey staying in the apartment over the garage. Now he was gone, back to his job at Valley Stables in Arizona. She thought back to the week in Saguaro Valley with her mother, where she’d met Richard Morgan, the man with whom she had just gone riding.
How do I feel about Richard? The longing in his coal-black eyes as he helped her off her horse. She knew he wanted to kiss her, but she had pulled back. Why? I’m attracted to him, so why not? He’s good-looking, filthy rich, and fun. But love? That was with Rob. Our love was supposed to last forever. Instead, my heart’s in a million pieces, and I’m not sure how to pick them up. Her sister Harriet’s recommendation was to see Elise, her therapist. What could be easier?
She and Rob had met in college when he was a struggling pre-med student. They married during his residency. Rob’s parents, now deceased, had built the home Lucy shared with her two teenagers. It was left to Rob and his older sister, Corky, along with another house on Cape Cod. Upon the parents’ death, Corky had insisted on having the Cape Cod house, which she promptly sold for an enormous sum. Then, proceeds in hand, she moved to California to become an actress. Last they heard she was out of money and no closer to an acting career than when she had left New England.
Rob and Lucy lovingly restored every inch of the rambling Dutch colonial. Its exquisite woodwork and fine details gave it the appearance of an antique home. Most of the furniture—excepting the most valuable pieces, which Corky had also insisted upon having—had stayed with the house. There were five bedrooms on the second floor. The master suite at one end and then Robert’s and Amy’s rooms at the other. They kept one room as a guest room and the fifth bedroom had been converted into an office for Lucy’s business, a mail-order catalog, Merlin’s Closet, specializing in children’s books. Now booming, her business had since moved to office space in town.
Lucy looked for a note but found nothing on the kitchen counter except an assortment of dirty dishes, empty milk cartons, and scattered crumbs. She liked a well-ordered house where everything had its place and where one could relax in serenity, not chaos. The first floor of the house had a huge kitchen-family room, a stone hearth at one end, and a recently completed bay window addition at the other. They ate most meals in the light-filled breakfast nook, seated around a burnished maple oval table. On either side of the bay window were two narrow leaded glass panels made by her mother, deep blue morning glories twined round each other reaching toward the sun.
A large family room, smaller wood-paneled den, and solarium were at one end of the house. Off the kitchen was a formal dining room with a fieldstone fireplace, and behind the kitchen, a laundry room, mud room, and bath, as well as a cubbyhole of a room that Rob had used as his home office. A comfortable house, Lucy prided herself on making it even more so in the fifteen years she had lived there.
As she straightened the den, the back door slammed. She paused. “Hi, I’m back here. That you, Rob?” she called, listening for her son’s voice.
“It’s me, Mom!” her daughter Amy called, popping her head around the den door as her mother scooped up a pile of Sunday papers.
“Hi sweetie, where’ve you been?” Papers put aside, she hugged her fourteen-year-old.
“At the Robinsons’. They’re going out to dinner, so I came home. They asked me to go, but I thought I’d better not ‘because I couldn’t get you on the phone. How was your ride?”
“Bumpy.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mr. Morgan, huh?”
“Some. Is that okay with you?”
“Course, what do you think?”
“It’s just…with your dad and all.”
“Dad has hideous Chloe, so why shouldn’t you date?”
“Now, now.” Lucy loaded Amy up with an armful of papers and watched her head into the kitchen. Her hair, so like her grandmother’s and her Aunt Harriet’s, trailed in one thick chestnut braid to her waist. She even walked like Helen, as Lucy herself did. While Lucy favored her father in appearance, with the same pale blue eyes and sandy hair, her gait and mannerisms were her mother’s and now, her daughter’s as well. Amy most definitely had the Gifford swagger. It suited her.
“Aunt Harriet called,” Amy said over her shoulder. “She’s stopping by.”
“Thanks, sweetie!”
* * *
Richard Morgan drove up to his sprawling farmhouse, the first building completed on the property just north of Horseshoe Crab Cove. Fifty-three years old, he had been a widower for nearly two decades. Since his wife’s death, he hadn’t met anyone like Lucy Winthrop Brennan. She was the first woman since Laura with whom he could imagine sharing his life. He’d dated, so many he’d lost count, but those relationships petered out after a few months.
There is something about Lucy. A wounded bird, yes, but with a depth of soul. He sat on the porch glider and closed his eyes, picturing her soft peach skin, sky-blue eyes, and the way she crinkled her nose when she smiled. He longed to stroke her slender arms, or better yet, drape them over his shoulders and draw her close, but he sensed she wouldn’t welcome such gestures. As he let out a deep sigh, a voice called.
“Hey, Dad! You awake?” Weezie, his youngest daughter, bounded up on the porch, followed by her brother Rich, his eldest. Rich was CEO of Morgan Enterprises. He oversaw all his father’s businesses, including the new farm. Behind the others came Gail, one of his middle children. Gail and Weezie still lived at home. Gail did publicity and odd jobs for Morgan Enterprises. Richard was constantly encouraging her to spread her wings, but so far, she hadn’t wanted to leave the nest.
Richard grinned. “Well, well, well, to what do I owe this pleasure? Are you triple teaming me this morning?”
“Something like that,” Rich said, pushing a lock of long sandy hair from his forehead as he set down a bulging briefcase. “Don’t you remember? We’re having a business meeting.” Rich was Laura’s child. Same smile, same sandy hair, Laura’s soft hazel eyes. He also had her quiet, steady temperament, which made him so effective in his job as CEO.
“Dad’s head is in the clouds, daydreaming about his new girlfriend,” Weezie said in a singsong voice.
Gail rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Weezie stuck out her tongue at her sister.
Richard threw his hands up. “Okay, okay, girls. No squabbling. Come on inside.”
He put his arm around Gail, whom he called his little hedgehog. She’d always been his prickly child. Ninety percent of the time, Gail’s brow was wrinkled with a frown. He wished he could change that, but for twenty-six years, he’d been largely unsuccessful. Weezie pushed by, swinging open the door with a flourish, receiving another eye roll from her sister. A study in contrasts, the sisters. Weezie, petite and slender, her dark brown hair cut short in a stylish pixie, chocolate eyes dancing with light. Gail, short too, but all curves, with hazel eyes, her shoulder-length auburn hair held back by a slim leather headband, and freckles splayed across her nose. They both had cute turned-up noses, but the resemblance ended there. Audrey Hepburn and Rita Hayworth, Richard sometimes called them.
Once the four were seated at the dining room table with coffee or water, Richard said, “You’re the boss, Rich. Why don’t you get us started?”
Rich pulled several folders from his briefcase. “Thanks, Dad. So…construction is pretty much on schedule for this first phase. Barns are looking great. Gus ordered most of the equipment and tack before he left.”
“Gee, I wish we could’ve persuaded him to stay longer,” Richard said. “But my brother and his partner would have sued the pants off me, I’m afraid. He was perfect for the job.”
“Which we’re having trouble filling,” Rich said.
Weezie looked at Richard. “I can run the mustang program.”
“You’re a terrific rider, baby,” he said. “But the job takes skills you don’t have. Not yet at least.”
His youngest huffed. “Do too.”
“Besides, you’ve got school.”
“I’m taking a leave.” Weezie was enrolled in a master’s program for social work, but so far, her participation had been minimal.
“Can we please move on?” Gail said.
“Not until I’ve said my piece,” Weezie said.
Rich sat calmly, shuffling through a file. “Dad, I’ll defer to you on this. Are we going to discuss who’s running the mustang rescue now?”
“No, except to hear if you’ve got any good candidates.” Weezie opened her mouth, and he raised a hand. “Have you?”
“Couple of guys are interviewing tomorrow. Gail and I can handle it. Weezie’s welcome to come, and I may ask Dennis to step in since he’s the one who worked most closely with Gus.”
“Not true,” Weezie said. “I spent every day with Gus and the horses.”
Smiling at his youngest, Richard said, “Let’s talk about where we are with the thoroughbreds.”
“Scouts are looking. It’s not easy. Uncle Ben and his buddy grabbed up some of the best this past year for Valley Stables.”
“Gail, where are we with branding? We’ve gotta come up with a name for this enterprise before long, or no one’s gonna pay us a bit of attention.”
“We’re working on it, Dad, I promise. Morgan’s Run East isn’t gonna cut it, though.”
“Agreed,” her father said. “What about the wild horses? Where are we with them?”
“Gus thought we should start with no more than five mustangs, but there’s such a pressing need for rescue.”
“Think we could push that to ten?” Richard asked.
“Not without a competent experienced trainer,” Rich said.
“Maybe I can get Gus to come back for a month or so this winter.”
Weezie shook her head. “Not a chance, Dad. He’s moved into his beautiful new house, kids are happy, and he’s getting married soon.”
They talked awhile longer, then Weezie and Rich departed. Gail stayed behind to discuss publicity. Finally, she stood. “I’m going into the Cove. You need anything?”
“Thanks, sweetie, I’m fine. I may persuade Lucy to have dinner with me later, but Callie can fix you girls something.”
Gail frowned at the mention of Lucy Brennan. “Mom would have loved it here.”
He patted her hand. “Maybe. She sure loved Maine after all our years as vagabonds.” As he watched Gail gather her things, he thought, If I get serious with Lucy, my little hedgehog is going to pull out all the stops to break it up.
Chapter 2
Lucy’s partner, Lolly LaSalle, was surrounded by a wall of boxes when Lucy arrived at the office, lunches from the Cove Grille in hand. “I see you’ve been consorting with the enemy,” Lolly said, noticing the bags. Her ex-in-laws, Rosa, and Cesar Rodriguez, owned the Grille. Lolly remained friendly with the couple and several of their offspring, but rarely patronized their very popular restaurant for fear of running into her ex. Sandy Rodriguez, her former husband, lived in town and ran a music venue, Sandy’s, on the coast north of the village.
“Only way you’ll get your favorite sandwich,” Lucy said, plunking a bag in front of her.
Lolly rubbed her hands together. “Thank you, thank you! I have dreams about the California burger.”
Lucy grabbed two iced teas out of the office fridge and came to join her. “You might need to get a life, then.”
“Says you.”
“Touché.” Lucy smiled, gazing around at their surroundings. “We really need an assistant. We can afford it. We could go after someone who loves books or just hire some muscle for all this. A few hours a week would really help with this mess.”
“If it’s muscle you want, we could put a notice up in Averill’s,” Lolly said, referring to the village’s general store.
“Or I could ask Rob if any of his friends would be interested. He’s been working after school for his father, so I can’t ask him to do this too.”
“We could beg him to quit that job and come here.”
“No, thanks. Last thing I want is for him to be in the middle of a turf war.”
Lucy’s ex-husband, Rob, was an internist and ran a family medical practice in the village. He had two associates, and between them, several nurse practitioners and three nurses, they served a number of towns north and south of the village. They maintained their office here because it was central and cheaper. Lucy spent part of every day wishing Rob would move somewhere else, preferably Timbuktu.
“What’s new with the unmentionable anyway?” Lolly asked.
“Nothing I want to know about.”
“What about the creepy girlfriend.”
Lucy put up her hand. “Stop! New subject.”
Lolly gave her a mischievous look. “Okay, so what’s up with Mr. Hunky Farmer?”
“Nothing. We’re friends.”
“Does he know that?”
“No, but I’m going tell him tonight. I’m just not ready for more.”
“Is it because your ex is still lurking around?”
“No.” Lucy threw her sandwich wrapper into the trash. “Let’s talk about the mess that’s surrounding us, okay?”
“You mean your idiot doctor and my sleazy music promoter?”
“Enough! I’m going to start unpacking these. We’ve got orders up the wazoo, and some of them need to go out today.”
Hands on hips, Lolly stood beside her. “Fine, fine, grouchy, but I want to hear all about your hot date tonight.”
“I’m not listening!”
* * *
“You look nice, Mom,” Amy said as Lucy came downstairs to wait for Richard. “Is Mr. Morgan picking you up?”
“Yes, in about ten minutes. You gonna be okay till Rob gets home?”
Her daughter rolled her eyes. “Mom!”
“Sorry. I’m surprised you didn’t join your brother and Dad for dinner. They went to the Clam Shack, I think.”
“I have a ton of homework.”
“But you have to eat.”
“And I did. The leftover lasagna and salad were perfect.”
“Okay, I was just wondering, ’cause you love the Clam Shack.”
“Yeah, but I hate Chloe, and I didn’t want to sit through another dinner listening to what a great massage therapist she is. Yuck!”
Lucy smiled, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “You don’t have to hate Chloe for my sake.”
“Don’t worry. She’s detestable enough on her own, believe me. She’s a complete bitch. I don’t know what Dad sees in her.”
Youth, Lucy mused. Youth, energy, new and exciting. “Well, sweetie, I see Richard’s car. I’ll be back early.”
“Don’t hurry home on my account!” Amy called as she closed the front door.
“Wow, you look spectacular!” Richard said as she strolled down the front walk.
Lucy smiled. She’d taken great care with her casual outfit, choosing a top and slacks that flattered her slim figure and silver and lapis jewelry that brought out the blue in her eyes.
“Thanks, so do you.”
And he did in slacks and a dark-green linen sports shirt. Like his brother Ben, Richard looked fifteen years younger than he was, with craggy chiseled features, a strong jawline, and those eyebrows, dark like his eyes. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, then escorted her to the car, one hand on the small of her back. His touch was light but firm. After a year of raw nerves, sadness, and grief, his touch was comforting. Lucy felt safe for the first time in many months.
* * *
Richard peered around the Cove Grille. The décor was a mix of nautical and Hispanic, but somehow it worked. They were seated by the window overlooking the harbor. “So, this is my first time here. What’s good?”
“Everything. Cesar and Rosa are amazing cooks. I always get seafood, but people love the pasta dishes and the enchiladas and all. You really can’t go wrong.”
“It’s a pretty eclectic menu, isn’t it?”
“Changes every month.”
“Hi, guys, I’m Carla.” A pretty twenty-something dressed in denim capris and a gingham top greeted them, pad in hand. Pencil stuck in her ponytail, she pulled it out, unleashing a strand of auburn curls. “Can I start you with a drink?”
“You’re new,” Lucy said, smiling at her.
“Yup, just started this week. Love it.” She bent down and whispered, “My boyfriend Sandy’s parents own it.”
Richard suggested they get a bottle of wine, and after Lucy’s approval, Carla disappeared.
“Oh gee,” she said. Poor Lolly!
“Second thoughts about the wine?” he asked, concern in his gaze.
“No, the wine’s perfect. Our perky waitress is apparently dating my partner’s ex. Kind of an ongoing nightmare.”
He smiled. “Perky’s a perfect description. I would imagine it’s rough in a small town after a divorce.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Still difficult for you? I hear that your former husband is the town doc.”
“One of them. I have my moments,” she answered truthfully. “But it is what it is. If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have given you a different answer, and if you ask me three years from now, there’ll probably be yet another. It’s a process, grieving for what’s lost forever. People say it takes five years to feel normal again, so I’ve got a ways to go.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. I’m working on it. That’s the best I can say. Now let’s talk about something more interesting. Tell me about the farm and how things are going. You had just gotten started on our ride.”
Carla returned and poured the wine, after which they each ordered the seafood special, pistachio-crusted sea bass, then chatted amiably about their days, his hopes for the farm, and Lucy’s business. “We really need to hire an assistant,” she said, setting down her fork. “This fish is delicious, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, and I might know someone.”
“Oh?”
“My son Wolfie. Did you meet him at the wedding?”
“Just for a minute,” she said, “then I never saw him again.”
Richard smiled. “That’s Wolfie. He’s an introvert. Hermit might be more like it. Weezie’s the opposite. I was surprised when he said he wanted to come with us to the wedding, but I think it was an opportunity to see that part of the country.”
“Did he have a good time?”
“Stayed at the reception about five minutes, but I think he enjoyed himself. Took lots of hikes. Borrowed a mountain bike a couple of times from Lang Dillon.”
“Is he looking for work?”
“Maybe. He loves books. Works in a bookshop in Boston but says he’s giving up his apartment and coming home for a while. He likes this area much better than Maine. He’s got one year left at Northeastern but has taken the year off. Won’t tell me why.”
“Well, if he’s interested, please have him be in touch. We really do need someone, and a book person would be a huge plus.”
Chapter 3
“This really is a beautiful little village,” Richard said as they walked out of the restaurant.
She nodded. “It’s pretty special. Thank you for dinner.”
“My pleasure. I hope we’ll have many more. Care for a walk before we head back?”
“We can walk the boardwalk in whichever direction you’d like.”
“You choose.”
Lucy pointed southwest, where the land curved past the Fishery and Lab, eventually reaching the point and open sea. “Let’s see… the streets are quaint and pretty in that direction, but this way is more scenic, more open space.”
“I choose scenic,” he said. Although all the scenery I need is standing next to me.
“Okay.” She turned east to follow the boardwalk that skirted the entire west side of the peninsula.
“This is an incredible feat of engineering,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“And the upkeep is constant. Every time there’s a major storm, it gets washed away, only to be rebuilt.”
“So, how’d you wind up in Horseshoe Crab Cove anyway?”
“My mom. Well, my parents, actually. They bought a summer place here. Our mother kept it after the divorce. We’ve spent our summers here since childhood but moved here full-time after the divorce.”
“Oh?”
“My father was a train wreck. Still is in some ways.”
“Does he live nearby?”
“No, he’s in Mattapoisett. Bought a condo with his second wife. They moved there a couple of years ago after he sold the family home in New Bedford.”
“So did you grow up in New Bedford?”
“Yes. Those were not happy years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I have a dark, checkered past. I hope warning bells are sounding for you.”
He paused. They’d reached the edge of the village proper, and open fields stretched to their left. “Quite the contrary.”
Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her close and kissed her. His lips were warm and soft as they gently opened hers, his tongue tickling. She responded, arms circled his shoulders, lost in the touch, and feel of him. Her legs grew shaky, and her body tingled with longing. After ten seconds, she shook herself free and stepped back.
He gave her a warm smile, stroking her arm. “Too much?”
“Yes… No… I don’t know,” she said.
Deer in the headlights, he mused. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s obvious that I’m interested in you and have been since we met in Saguaro.”
She smiled shyly. “Yes.”
“I’ve dated a lot of women over the past twenty years since my wife died, but never someone like you.”
“I’m flattered, Richard. I really am, but I’m just not ready. I had my heart broken by someone I loved very deeply, and I’m still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“I can see that, and I won’t push you, Lucy, but I’d love for us to be friends.”
“Of course.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “But friends don’t kiss each other like that.”
“Maybe not, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”
There it was the gorgeous Morgan smile that made women from coast to coast go weak at the knees.
“No,” she said softly. “Thanks for understanding. Shall we walk a little farther or turn back?”
“Let’s go a few minutes more before heading back. I’d love to see what’s ahead.”
They passed Lolly’s mother’s estate, a popular wedding venue with an enormous house, barns, and cottages. Mavis LaSalle was usually booked solid for two years out. Lolly often worked the weddings and sometimes roped her friend in as well. Lucy had served at a number of celebrity weddings over the past ten years. The stars’ reps and Mavis herself always had them sign confidentiality agreements before and after such events.
As they headed back to town, he took her hand, and they walked in companionable silence. She felt warm and comforted by his touch. Despite the warning bells, she was very attracted to the handsome fifty-three-year-old. And Richard Morgan is hot!
Get Lucy’s Hearth!