September Love Read online

  When she and the pastor were seated in the living room, she mentioned Kate’s concern about the school uniforms, and Pastor Cooper grinned easily.

  “Tell Kate not to worry. I don’t think it’s going to go through. Privately, I’d be inclined to let the kids whoop it up on Fridays in anything they wanted to wear, but you’d be surprised how many kids don’t want to. The principal, Mrs. Lundy, and I are giving them a lesson in democracy. They’re taking a vote on it. Each side is campaigning like mad. Posters. Meetings. They’re getting good practical experience. The whole enchilada.”

  Beth laughed in relief. “Well, Kate’s a worrier, not like her sister. Jill takes everything in stride. Kate’s going to have another baby, you know. That delayed her redecorating her house, and she fumes about that.”

  “What house?” he asked.

  “The little gray frame house next door to where she and Ian live. She lived there before she was widowed. It’s vacant now, and she wanted to fix it up, but that got put on hold.”

  There was a pause, then he asked, “Where’s Kayla? I didn’t see her when I came in.”

  “Oh, she isn’t here,” Beth said. “She’s decided to go back into rehab.” She didn’t continue because of the disappointment that came and went in his eyes. “Didn’t you think she would?” she asked.

  “Let’s say, I hoped she wouldn’t. Do you know why? Actually, I should rephrase that. Are you at liberty to say why?”

  “Not exactly,” Beth said uncertainly. “I mean…”

  He waited a moment, then said, “I’m more sorry than I can say. I could see in our interview…that there might be complications, but she needn’t have worried. I’ve had some solid training in dealing with dependent people. It would have been okay.”

  “I knew it would,” Beth said warmly. “But Kayla is so insecure. She doesn’t trust herself. She said… She said she couldn’t get emotionally involved. She just panicked at the idea.”

  “I was afraid of that,” he said slowly. “I could have handled it, but she wasn’t to know that.” His voice held a tinge of sadness, and for a moment, his expressive eyes revealed more than he realized.

  Poor Philip. Poor Kayla. She extended her hand to wish him goodbye. She hoped her face didn’t show what she had just realized. Kayla was the last woman in the world Pastor Cooper should be interested in, but only she and Kayla knew it.

  Chapter Nine

  Beth was about to go back into the bed-sitter to check on Adam when she noticed Mrs. Jessup waiting at the top of the stairs. She suppressed a sigh. Running a successful B and B was a full-time job and she was stretching herself rather thin these days. She made herself smile up at the other woman, who really was a nice person.

  “Oh, hello, I didn’t see you. Can I do something for you? How’s Mr. Jessup doing?”

  Mrs. Jessup started down the stairs. “I’m a little worried,” she said. “He insists he’s doing fine, but you know how men are when they get sick. Anyhow, I’m going out for a while. Will you help me a bit with this bus schedule?”

  “Of course,” Beth said, as the other woman reached the hallway. She liked Mrs. Jessup. She liked most of her guests, and hoped she hadn’t been neglecting them. Today, to her trim, neat, blond attractiveness, Mrs. Jessup had added a lovely scent, which Beth noticed as she looked at the bus schedule and gave directions.

  “It’s still pretty rough weather out there,” Beth cautioned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a cab?”

  Mrs. Jessup looked out the window. “I just have to get out of the house for a bit,” she said, then added, “Well, maybe I’d better settle for a taxi. Otherwise, I’ll get soaked.”

  While Beth rang the cab company, Doug’s car drove in the drive, and by the time the taxi had come, Beth could hear him in the kitchen. He was getting himself something warm to drink. As soon as she could, she hurried back to join in. He was seated at the kitchen table, waiting for the coffee. The pot had begun its little humming sound. He looked tired, and her heart went out to him. Things had been so perfect—before Kayla.

  With half her mind still thinking she should have checked on what Adam was doing, she reached for his hands, which lay lax on the table. “How’d things go, dear?”

  He sighed. “Well, first let’s decide which things. If it’s how things go with my Kayla problem—as well as can be expected, I guess. I know in my gut she doesn’t want to go back into rehab, and from that state of affairs I rather think it’s not going to work out this time, either.” She could hear the disappointment in his voice.

  “Oh, Doug, let’s not be defeatist. At least think positively.” She tried to lighten his mood but hers wasn’t any better. Was Kayla going to be a problem forever?

  “Then,” he continued, “the bank called me on my cell phone, which I wish now hadn’t been invented.”

  “What did the bank want?”

  “It’s that gift committee. They’ve decided—against all odds—what they want as a gift for the departing manager. Is the coffee ready now?”

  “Yes, I think so. I’ll get it.” Beth rose, got mugs from the cupboard and poured out the fresh coffee for them both. Was Adam still okay on his own? He had been so crushed at Kayla’s leaving again.

  “So, what happened about the picture?” she asked. “Why are you down about it?”

  “The bank manager is so pleased with the one I did of Shilshole Bay and vicinity that he wants one exactly like that. And you know how I never want to paint anything twice.” He tried to take a sip of coffee, found it still too hot and put down the mug.

  “You see my problem here, Beth. I traveled the nation selling textbooks for a living, practicing my painting whenever I could. Then I took the earliest retirement I could afford. I wanted to paint the beautiful landscapes of the world. I never actually thought of selling any. I was doing this for love, not money. Then I came here, and last year it seemed such a good idea to start selling them—since I had found out people wanted to actually pay for them. We were trying to fund the church school for Kate and Cyrus. It seemed like a great idea. Then I fell into the habit of painting to sell. Now…” He paused, looking off into the distance. “I guess I’m stuck with it. I want to sell them. I plan on what I’ll do with the money I get. What I’ve done, my dear love, is I’ve traded selling textbooks for another job, and…that’s not what I wanted to do. I absolutely hate painting something I’ve painted before.”

  Beth had been trying to quell a rising irritation. She had been the one who started selling his paintings when they had had to fund the church school, because she had realized he was more talented than he thought he was. At the time he had been surprised, pleased, flattered that what he had been doing as a hobby was worth so much to others. Now he saw it as a trap. And somehow he made it seem all her fault.

  Before she could stop herself she said almost snappishly, “Are you blaming me for this?”

  He assumed a look of surprise. “Blaming? Of course not. At the time—when we were all scrounging money for the school—I was pleased to sell them, to get my first showing in a real gallery. No, I’m not blaming you. Or anybody. It’s just that…oh, well.”

  Beth felt ashamed, but couldn’t really forget her anger. He had been blaming her. She had heard it in his tone. She searched her mind for something conciliatory to say.

  “You were right about our Pastor Cooper,” she said finally.

  “In what way?” He started sipping his hot coffee again.

  “That he’s attracted to Kayla. I noticed it when he stopped by here because I wanted to ask him about the school uniforms. So you had that pegged right.”

  He grinned halfheartedly. “Good to know I’m right about something. I still think that’s the answer. If Kayla ever teamed up with the right man, I think it would be her salvation.”

  “Or his downfall,” Beth said, then instantly regretted it. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory way,” she added quickly, but Doug’s face had closed into a frown.

  H
e got up abruptly and dumped his nearly full cup into the sink. “I drink too much coffee. Only native Seattleites—which I’m not—can drink six gallons of this a day and thrive on it. I’m going down in the basement for a while.”

  Now what have I done? Beth thought in dismay. Everything was so perfect before Kayla crashed into our lives. What is happening to us, Lord? Doug had been, at fifty-plus, wandering around the country, painting his beautiful landscapes, lonely, with an unsuccessful marriage and a problem daughter behind him. She herself had been widowed, with a near loveless marriage behind her, running her small business, lonely. And somehow they had come together, found one another and with it their wonderful September love, their second chance at happiness. It had been so…so good, so perfect. Then Kayla had come, with her confused little boy clinging desperately to her billowing green-and-white skirt. And now, somehow—what was happening? They were worried, stressed, snapping at each other, critical of each other.

  Oh, dear God, help me. I can’t lose this. I can’t.

  Shaking, Beth got up and hurried down the basement steps. “Doug! Doug!”

  He was seated on his workbench, leaning over with his head bowed. “Doug, what are we doing?” she asked, feeling close to tears.

  He sprang up and took her in his arms. “Oh, Beth, I don’t know,” he said, holding her close.

  She buried her face in his shoulder. “We can’t let this—this difficulty—come between us. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he muttered into her hair. “Don’t apologize, Beth. If anybody should apologize, it’s me. And no, we mustn’t let this come between us. People cope with problems all the time. We can cope. We can.” There was desperation in his voice. “I’ve coped with problems all my life. So have you. We can do this—whatever happens—without letting it change our lives.”

  “No, we can’t let it change anything.” Beth realized her tone was almost pleading, and she didn’t really know whom she was pleading with. She raised her face, knowing Doug’s kiss would block out everything else.

  Then—from somewhere—came the errant thought. Where’s Adam? What’s Adam doing upstairs in those big, empty rooms? Perhaps the same question had occurred to Doug, too, because he released her.

  “We’d better go up—at least, I’d better go up. Adam’s all by himself in the bed-sitter. He’s been awfully quiet,” she said.

  “I’ll come with you. I can’t help but feel I’m imposing on you. Kayla and Adam—they’re really my problems, and they both need so much.”

  Arm in arm, as if they couldn’t let go of one another, they went up to the bed-sitter. It was empty. Some of the toys were on the floor near the toy box, and the curtain above the window seat was askew.

  “Adam,” Beth called out. “Where are you, sweetie?”

  There was no answer. Doug made it to the front door in a split second and tried the handle. “This is tight. He couldn’t have gone out this way, anyhow. He probably couldn’t reach the knob. Adam?” he called. Then they started to look in all the downstairs rooms.

  Self-doubt flitted through Beth’s mind. Can I do this, God? Am I too old at fifty to keep up with a lively, unpredictable little three-year-old boy, and also run my business? Oh, surely not. Fifty isn’t old anymore.

  Not having found Adam in any of the downstairs rooms, they started up the big stairway off the entry hall.

  “Adam?” Doug called loudly. “I’m glad all the guests are out,” he muttered to Beth.

  “Well, they aren’t,” Beth said. “Poor Mr. Jessup is sick, remember?”

  “Oh, yes,” Doug said contritely. “I hope he wasn’t trying to sleep.”

  “Gamma Beff?” Adam’s little voice came to them, and he peeked out the door of the Jessups’ room. Oh, he was in with poor, sick Mr. Jessup. Beth felt embarrassed color rising to her face.

  Doug gave a soft knock at the door and stuck his head in.

  “I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Jessup. It seems my little grandson…” He paused and went into the room, and Beth followed.

  “That’s okay,” Mr. Jessup said in a faint, rasping whisper. “I thought he just stopped in for a social call. Hi,” he added when he saw Beth. “But he’s not comfortable with chitchat, is he. I said hello, but he didn’t answer. Just stood there with that funny little frown on his face.”

  Beth looked at Mr. Jessup in dismay. He’s awfully sick, she thought suddenly. Much sicker than she had thought. He even appeared to have lost weight, and he looked so gaunt. His color was more gray than suntanned as a rancher’s face should be. Could his flu have turned into pneumonia?

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, going quickly to his bedside. She was aware that Doug had picked Adam up and was holding him.

  “Not too good,” Mr. Jessup said. It seemed a great effort for him to speak. “Do you… Do you happen to know where my wife went?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. She just said she had to get out for a bit. I got her a cab. Do you mind if I feel your pulse?” She had taken a first-aid course when she first decided to start a B and B business. Emergencies did happen, and she had wanted to be as prepared as she could be.

  “Sure,” he whispered. “If you can find it. Be my guest. I’m sorry about all this. I don’t want to be a problem.”

  “You’re not a problem. Not at all,” Beth said, feeling for his pulse. She paused in silence, trying to count. The pulse was there, but thready. She let go of his wrist.

  “Mr. Jessup, don’t you think this is more serious than you first thought?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so. I was hoping my wife…” His voice lost power again, and he was whispering. “I have medical insurance, if you know a doctor.”

  “Yes,” Beth said briskly. “I do. Do you want me to call him?”

  “Please. I guess I’m about to give up on this vacation. We’d allowed our regular two weeks. One for driving back and forth to the ranch, and one for our annual big-city event. I sure messed this up…” Even his whisper failed now, and he stopped trying to talk.

  “If they want to take you to the hospital, would you go?” Beth asked.

  Mr. Jessup nodded.

  “Where’s your insurance card?” she asked. “In case it has any restrictions.”

  He gestured to the bedside table, and Beth took up his billfold. “All right if I open it?”

  He nodded again. There was a film of perspiration on his face and his breathing was more labored. She hurried out into the hall. As she reached the hall phone, it rang. She did something she almost never did. She picked up the receiver and put it down again quickly, cutting off the incoming call so she could use the line. If it was a potential guest, she was sorry, but her current guest needed medical help and soon. She dialed the doctor’s office. She was aware that Doug had stayed in Mr. Jessup’s room, still close to the door, talking easily, reassuringly, with Mr. Jessup.

  The doctor wasn’t available, but Beth explained what she had observed to the nurse. Together they concluded that Mr. Jessup needed to be in the hospital.

  “And his insurance card authorizes hospital stays in a strange city,” Beth said. “He and his wife are traveling.” They quickly made the arrangements, and Beth hung up.

  “They’re sending an ambulance,” Beth said, standing at Mr. Jessup’s door. “It’ll be here in a few minutes. My husband would have taken you down, but in this weather an ambulance will be better.”

  “Thanks very much,” Mr. Jessup said in his rasping whisper. “If my wife doesn’t get back before…”

  “Don’t worry,” Beth assured him. “I’ll tell her where you are.”

  The phone rang again, and, with a gesture of irritation, Beth went to answer it. It was Kate.

  “Guess what,” Kate said. “Raymond was upset again about the school uniform thing. He said—”

  “Listen, Kate,” Beth interrupted. Not Katie nit-picking again! This was too much! “I have a sick guest, and we’re waiting for the ambulance. Can I call you back?”<
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  “Oh, sure, Mom. I’m sorry,” Kate said immediately, and rang off.

  Beth sighed in exasperation, then looked at Doug, still holding Adam. At least her girls didn’t have the problems that Kayla did….

  They heard the whine of the siren outside and hurried downstairs to admit the ambulance attendants.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Jessup came back just as her husband was being settled inside the ambulance, and was told of the emergency. She was grateful to Beth.

  “How can I ever thank you?” she said, sounding a bit teary. “When I left, I thought he was all right.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing,” Beth reassured her. “You go on down to the hospital with him. Let me give you a key so you can get in when you come back—it doesn’t matter how late.”

  When they finally had gone, she and Doug took Adam back into the bed-sitter. She was feeling a small glow of satisfaction. She had never worked during her long marriage to Ralph Bennett. She had started her B and B business after his death, to supplement her widow’s pension. She had never known the satisfaction of doing a job and doing it well. It was a good feeling.

  “You’re looking pleased,” Doug said, smiling, as he put Adam down on the window seat.

  “I am pleased. I’m sorry Mr. Jessup is sick—it ruined their vacation—but I do like this work. It’s always a challenge.”

  “It suits you,” he said easily. “You’re a natural hostess.”

  She sat down beside him on the sofa-bed couch. They were both looking fondly at Adam. He had pushed aside the curtain and was looking out into the still-wet world.

  “Mommy come back?”

  “Not yet,” Beth said. What was she going to do about Adam? How did you explain to a three-year-old child that he mustn’t go around into the bedrooms and glower at the guests? Poor little mite. His world was so confused.

  “Beth,” Doug said, “can we talk about…” He gestured toward the window seat and the little watcher still staring out.

  “Of course,” she murmured, feeling suddenly hopeful. She had wanted for some time to talk, really talk, with Doug about Kayla and Adam.