The Village of Gerard's Cliff (5 page)

He really had not expected
her to agree to this, being that she seemed to dislike him most of
the time, and, adding to that, the fact that he was a guest at her
inn. They conversed rather easily, he thought, considering that
they had only known each other for two days.

He told her about his
family in Maryland - his parents, married for forty-five years and
now retired, an older, married brother with two children, and a
younger sister, engaged to be married in the spring. As he kept an
eye on the winding two-lane road, he noticed that she would nod or
smile, glancing over at him every so often, as if in serious
thought.

Connor listened intently
as Allie told him about her family. Her father, a pediatrician, she
said, still worked to occupy himself after her mother had died a
couple of years ago. She had an older, married brother, living in
central Virginia, as well, but they were not that close. After she
and Patrick had married, they realized that they both had a mutual
desire to travel and do something out of the ordinary, and they
chose Maine as their destination. Glancing sideways at her, he saw
her face light up for just a moment, at the memory, staring out of
the window as she related their adventure. They barely had any
income at the time, she told him, and, as luck would have it, came
across the old inn, its elderly owners anxious to sell. The two of
them scraped together as much money as they could to buy and
renovate the place. When The Colborne Inn opened its doors, three
months later, it was evident that they would do well. She told him
that soon after they opened the inn, Patrick began going out on
fishing trips with the local fishermen, sometimes staying out to
sea for several days. Allie was silent for a few moments. She
looked at him solemnly, as she added that her husband had died just
months earlier in a horrible boating accident.

"I'm very sorry you lost
your husband," he responded quietly and sincerely, glancing over at
her. He saw her blink and nod in reply. As he returned to watching
the road ahead, he noticed that she had turned her head and was
gazing out of the side window, lost in her own thoughts.

There was no more
conversation between them for the rest of the trip. Out of
necessity, Allie pointed out to him the streets to turn onto, as
they neared the village. At one point, as she extended her arm,
Connor noticed that her wrist did not look as bruised today. He
pulled over to the curb, as Allie directed him, in front of the
small grocery store located on the main street of Gerard's
Cliff.

"Here we are, ma'am."
Connor tried to sound cheerful, as he shut off the engine. He
turned to Allie, who looked back at him with a solemn stare, and
something else... her eyes were veiled now. "Will an hour be enough
time for you to get everything you need?" He acted as though he had
not noticed the change in her.

"Yes, thank you," she
replied quietly. He understood from her demeanor that their
new-found ease with each other was now a thing of the past.
Memories of her late husband occupied her thoughts now, Connor
realized. He got out of the car, went around to the sidewalk, and
opened the door for her. He held out his hand. She smiled at him,
and clasped his hand as she climbed out of the low sports
car.

"See you in an hour." He
started back around to his side of the car. He got behind the wheel
and started the engine.

Connor made a right turn
off the main street and slowly drove through the small, quaint
village of Gerard's Cliff, looking for a parking spot. He was all
too aware of the short time he now had given himself to get this
job done. Finding a spot not too far from his destination, he eased
his car into the small space. Once on foot, he headed toward
Baskin's Cove. He crossed over the footbridge and onto the dock,
looking with interest at the fishing boats moored along the piers.
He walked quickly along the dock, glancing at his watch.

Max's Bar and Grill, housed in a blue frame building with
white trim, was located at the end of a row of other businesses in
front of the dock. Above the entrance was an enormous sign
depicting a large red lobster holding a bottle of beer in its
up-raised claw. Connor was curious as to what this man, Jake Ayers
had to tell him. Compared to the scant information he had gleaned
from the phone call, anything else would be a bonus. Ayers was the
first link in a chain of very elusive links that Connor had to
connect.

The bar was pitch black. Connor squinted, and still had
trouble seeing through the shimmering translucent clouds of smoke.
After his eyes adjusted, he walked over to the long bar to his
right and sat down on one of the leather covered stools. He looked
around him, and as far as he could tell, the establishment had very
few patrons; there were three other men seated further down from
him at the bar. Maybe it was too early in the day, or...maybe this
Jack Ayers was trying to lay low. Connor ordered a scotch, and,
noticing that the balding, middle-aged bartender seemed friendly
enough, motioned to him. The bartender walked back, leaned on one
elbow toward Connor, and raised his eyebrows, waiting...

"You seen Jack Ayers
around here lately?" Connor asked, as low-key and casual as he
could make the question, taking a sip of his drink. The bartender
seemed to take a very long time thinking about the question and
sizing up Connor. He shrugged, "He hangs out here sometimes,
usually late at night."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."
Connor finished his drink. After leaving his tip on the bar, he got
up and walked out of Max's Bar and Grill, and stepped out into the
dank, overcast afternoon. He noticed that it had begun to
drizzle.

Connor walked slowly back
to his car. Damn. Now he would have to return again tonight. He
went over in his head the questions he wanted to ask Jack Ayers. He
hoped the man had the answers he needed.

Allie stood glumly beside the door of the grocery store, a
bag in each hand. She peered out through the store's fogged-up
window into the drizzly November afternoon, searching for Connor's
car. Why, oh why had she decided to let Connor drive her into the
village. Idiot, she berated herself. She had told him too much,
exposed herself to him....a stranger. She had never talked in such
a personal way with any of her guests -
ever
, she fumed. Even Tilda and Sarah, as long
as she had known them, were never privy to her most private
thoughts. She sighed and chewed the inside of her lower lip,
wishing he would hurry, so she could get this drive back to the inn
over with.

Well....she would just
have
to endure the ride home with him. She could do
that. And when they got back to the inn, she would treat him with
aloofness, until his vacation, or whatever it was, was over. What
was he doing while she was getting groceries, she wondered. He had
failed to mention that, she huffed. She was aggravated that he knew
more about her than she did about him. He was rather vague about
his life, now that she thought about it, while she, like an idiot,
poured her heart out to him.

Out of the corner of her
eye, Allie saw Connor's black car appear out of the mist from a
side road, then turn onto Main Street. It pulled up to the curb and
stopped. She adjusted her jacket collar and juggled the bags in her
hands, preparing to make a run for it, as the drizzle had turned
into a downpour. To her surprise, the door opened, and Connor ran
in, soaking wet. He stood dripping on the store's doormat for a
moment, wiping his eyes with a wet hand.

"I'll take those." Connor
briskly grabbed the bags out of her hands. "You ready? Let's go."
He pushed the door open with his shoulder, allowing her to run
ahead of him. Allie ducked her head, and, squealing, ran to the
passenger door, which she quickly opened. She hopped in, slammed
the heavy door, then looked around to see Connor jumping in on his
side with the two bags in one hand, his other hand reaching over to
shut his door. They looked at each other, and then down at the
soggy bags bunched between them. The bags were already splitting
open, with a large celery stalk, and red and yellow peppers
spilling out of one. Connor awkwardly tried to stuff them back into
what was left of the bag, only to see it totally fall apart in his
hands, the entire contents now spilling down onto the console, and
floorboard. They were both shivering, drenched to the bone, their
hair plastered to their heads, with icy cold rainwater dripping
down their faces.

Allie looked at Connor,
and burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. She noticed that
Connor was staring at her as if she were crazy, but she didn't care
anymore. Then he joined in. Still laughing they wrapped the fruits
and vegetables, as best they could, in what remained of the wet
grocery bags, and deposited them in the back seat.

She didn't mind the
silence, as they drove back to the inn. She was thinking about how
good it would feel to get her wet clothes off, and change into
something dry and warm. The next order of business would be to make
a roaring fire, snuggle in a big, fluffy blanket in the overstuffed
chair, and drink a mug of steaming hot coffee. She could smell the
aromas now.

She glanced sideways at
Connor, who, once they had left the village, never took his eyes
off the road. These roads, with their many narrow twists and turns,
were not easy to drive on in daylight, Allie knew, much less in a
torrential downpour. The gray, cloudy sky made it seem like night
time. Connor was not that familiar with the roads either, so she
didn't want to interrupt his concentration. She watched the
windshield wipers swish back and forth fruitlessly, as they barely
made a dent in the solid wall of water that seemed never-ending.
Allie much preferred snow to rain. At least, everything came to a
standstill until a snowstorm was over. Everyone just stayed snug in
their homes until it stopped, then emerged and dug themselves out.
Rain in the winter just made everything muddy and messy.

Thankfully, after what
seemed like a very long, slow, and nerve-wracking drive home, Allie
spied her home, and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Connor
pulled up as close to the house as he could, parked, and shut off
the engine.

The rain had let up
somewhat. Connor grabbed the wrapped groceries from the back seat,
and they ran to the front porch, stomping their boots on the mat in
front of the door. Allie unlocked the door, and entered her
sanctuary.

"Mmm..m.m.." Allie leaned
her head back as she felt the warmth of the room envelop her.
"Home..." Connor closed and locked the door, trying not to drop the
soggy bag.

"I'll put these in the
kitchen for you." Connor started toward the dining area.

"That's okay, I'm heading
back that way anyway." Allie put her hand on his sleeve to stop
him. "I'll take them." He turned, and fumbled with the awkward
bundle, making sure nothing fell out, as he deposited it in her
arms.

"I'm going to change and
make some coffee," she told him over her shoulder, as she headed
toward the back of the house. "Wait..." she turned around to face
him. "Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?" She wrapped
her arms more tightly around the slippery bundle, and then, not
waiting for a reply, she added, "I haven't, and I'm starved. How
about a sandwich with the coffee?" Allie watched him, as he shifted
his weight from one foot to the other, one hand on his hip. His
head was tilted to one side, and he was staring at her seriously,
his lips pursed.

"Sure, that sounds good."
He smiled, but Allie noticed a slightly puzzled look on his
face.

"Great." Allie turned, and carrying her tenuous bundle
through the dining room, heard him climb the stairs. She laid the
wet, paper-covered produce on the island, then headed back to her
room. There, after removing her soggy clothes and boots, she
changed into a pair of snug black sweatpants, a light gray
sweatshirt,, and thick, tan socks. She toweled her hair dry as best
she could, then brushed it back, securing it with a rubber band. It
felt so good to be warm, and dry, Allie could even see herself
being civil to Connor. She had, in her mind, on the long drive
home, reassessed their earlier conversation, and decided that she
was not going to feel vulnerable. Telling him personal things about
herself did not make her a weak person, Allie reasoned. He actually
might be good company on this miserable afternoon. She smiled as an
image suddenly appeared in her head... Connor, in the car, soaking
wet, laughing uproariously along with her, as they tried to gather
up the fruits and vegetables that were tumbling about the front
seat. Even his black eyebrows and eyelashes had drops of rain
clinging to them, she recalled, and his mouth was.....Allie
abruptly caught herself in mid-thought. Her hands, in the process
of tying a filmy, rust colored scarf into a knot around her
ponytail, paused. Allie looked at herself in the mirror, startled
at herself for thinking such outrageous things about him. She vowed
to herself that, from this moment on, she would only think of him
as a guest at her inn. And, as Sarah had said, he
was
a mystery. Allie
decided that, at some point, she would find out more about this
mysterious Connor Garrison.

Allie walked down the
short hall outside her bedroom, and set her wet boots down on the
black mat in front of the porch door. She padded through the
kitchen into the dining room, with the intention of getting a fire
started before she made lunch. As she approached the door to the
front parlor, she was surprised to see Connor, down on his haunches
in front of the fireplace, jabbing the poker into, from what she
could see, a decent-looking fire. He seemed unaware of her
presence, so she took the opportunity to lean on the white door
frame, her arms folded across her chest, and observe him. He had
changed into a rust and white plaid flannel shirt. She couldn't
help but notice that his dark blue jeans hugged his upper legs as
he leaned toward the fire, balancing on the white tennis shoes he
now wore. His short hair was slicked back, and was still damp,
making it appear a glossier black than usual. She watched him as he
focused intently on the fire, his face lit by the growing flames. A
smattering of sparks flew toward Connor, causing him to jerk his
head back slightly. Without realizing it, Allie jumped and made a
surprised "oh" sound. He turned his head and looked at her in
surprise. She noticed, as she stood straight again and unfolded her
arms, that his gaze moved very quickly from her eyes down to her
feet and back again. He smiled, his mouth slightly askew, as he
returned his attention to stoking the fire.