There was a short silence. She could hear the distant clatter of pots in the kitchen. The light breeze off the bay shifted tree branches in the corner of the garden. Birds chattered overhead.
"Sullivan and me, we decided maybe you were just curious," Mitchell said after a while.
"It was more than mere curiosity," she said quietly. "I should probably start at the beginning."
"If that's what you want to do."
She hesitated, looking for the right place to begin. "I was with my aunt a lot during the last couple of years of her life. She needed someone to take care of her and there wasn't anyone else. Aunt Claudia was not the most popular member of the family."
"Hell, I didn't even realize she had a family. She never mentioned the subject."
"She was the renegade. The black sheep. The one who was always a source of acute embarrassment. But I had always liked her a lot. And she liked me. Maybe it was because I looked so much like her. Or maybe she just felt sorry for me."
"Why would she feel sorry for you?"
"I think she saw me as a loner, just as she was. My parents divorced when I was small. They both remarried and started new families. I spent most of my youth shuttling back and forth between them but I never felt at home in either house. Aunt Claudia sensed that, I think."
"Go on."
"Claudia was very special to me. I know she had her faults, and her business ethics left a lot to be desired. But I loved her and she cared about me in her own way. She worried that I was too inclined to play it safe. She said I spent too much time trying to smooth things over and calm the waters. She kept urging me to take a few chances."
"She sure knew how to take 'em." Mitchell chuckled reminiscently. "Maybe that was one of the reasons I couldn't take my eyes off her back in the old days."
"She never forgot you, Mitch. When she became seriously ill, I went to stay with her until the end. It took over a year for her to die. We had a lot of time to talk."
"And one of the things you two talked about was Eclipse Bay? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes. She became increasingly obsessed with what had happened here. Said she didn't have a lot of regrets, but the destruction of Harte-Madison was one of them. She talked about how she wished that she could make amends."
"She should have known she couldn't go back and fix something that happened so long ago," Mitchell said.
"I know. But the subject became more and more important to her. Maybe because toward the end she became a serious student of New Age metaphysics. She talked a lot about karma and auras and such. At any rate, she asked me to come here after she was gone to find out how things stood. She wanted me to see if there was anything I could do to repair some of the damage she had done."
"Well, shoot and damn." Mitchell whistled softly. "So that's why you showed up here in town late last summer?"
"Yes. But shortly after I arrived, Rafe and Hannah returned and fell in love and made plans for Dreamscape. And then Gabe and Lillian started getting serious about each other. I turned around one day and you and Sullivan were having coffee together at the bakery." She smiled slightly. "It has become very clear that the feud is a relic of the past. The Hartes and the Madisons don't need my help mending the old rift."
"Huh," Mitchell said again. Thoughtful now.
She cleared her throat. "So, I feel that it's time for me to go."
"Just like that? You plan to slip out of town and disappear into the sunset?"
"It isn't that simple. As I said, I have to sell the gallery. And then there's the Children's Art Show."
"Loose ends."
"Yes."
"I don't like it," Mitchell said flatly.
"What don't you like?"
"Something doesn't sit right here." He whacked his cane absently against the trunk of a tree and eyed her with growing suspicion. "You sure Nick Harte hasn't been making a pest of himself?"
"No." Another quick dance step back. This was getting sticky. "Really."
"Has he been calling you up since he hit town a couple of weeks ago? Asked you out?"
"Well, yes."
"Hah. I knew it."
"I hardly think that constitutes pestering. Besides, I declined his invitations."
"Obviously."
"Obviously?"
Mitchell grunted. "If you'd had a date with Nick Harte, the news would have been all over town in an hour. Question is, why'd you turn him down?"
She began to feel a little desperate. The last thing she wanted to do was instigate more trouble between the Hartes and the Madisons.
"I've been busy," she said quickly.
"Bullshit. You're avoiding Nick Harte, aren't you?"
"Not exactly."
"Exactly." Mitchell looked fiercely pleased. "It's because you've got him figured out, isn't that right? You know Harte's got a reputation with the ladies. And you're too smart to fall for his tricks."
"Look, Mitch, I've got to be on my way. I would love to stay and chat, but I have some things to do this evening. Business related." She crossed her fingers mentally. She had gotten very good at inventing excuses lately. Aunt Claudia would have approved.
"Hold on here. I'll be damned if I'll let Nick Harte run you out of town." Mitchell aimed the cane at her. "You stay right where you are down there at the gallery. If he gives you any more trouble, let me know and I'll handle it."
"Sure. Right. Thanks, Mitch."
She whirled and fled toward the car.
Damn it, Mitch was right, she thought halfway back to her cottage on the bluffs. In a way she was allowing Nick Harte to run her out of town. It was a humiliating admission to confront but it was the truth.
She was acting like a coward. Madisons didn't run from anything. Neither did Hartes. Aunt Claudia had never run from a risk in her entire life.
Maybe it was time she stopped running, Octavia thought. At least for the summer.
Chapter 3
The ancient mauve Cadillac glided into the small parking lot with the majesty of a massive cruise ship coming into port. Nick had just switched off the engine of his own BMW. He admired the mile-long fins that graced the rear of the vehicle. Chrome gleamed on every curve and angle.
"They don't make 'em like that anymore," he said to Carson.
From his position strapped into the backseat, Carson craned to see out the window. "That's Mrs. Seaton's car."
"So it is."
Edith Seaton's dome of severely permed gray curls was just barely visible. Nick wondered if she could actually see over the top of the wheel or if she had to steer looking through it. Then again, he reminded himself, she had lived in Eclipse Bay all her life. She probably knew her way around blindfolded.
