“Not with anyone as rude and insecure as Darcy.” His assessment made Caitlin smile to herself, since that was how Darcy had struck her, too. “Worst hour I’ve had in a long time.”
Secretly pleased their date had only lasted an hour, Caitlin said, “At least the chowder was good, right?”
“Yes. But I noticed you left without yours.” He extended the bag he'd been holding.
“You saved it for me?”
“No. This is freshly made. There’s a bowl in here for me, too. I figured we’d have lunch together, if you haven’t already eaten.”
Aww, he’s really gone out of his way for me. First by agreeing to a setup, just to protect my privacy, and then by making a special trip to the pub so he could bring me fresh chowder. Even if I vowed I wouldn’t socialize with him any longer, after all he’s done, it would be rude to say no to having lunch together now.More importantly, Caitlin didn’twantto say no.
“You don’t mind eating chowder for a second time in a row?”
“Actually, it’s my third time in a row—when the server brought out your order, I took it so I could deliver it to you, but I had a splitting headache, so I went home and crashed. When I woke up, I ate your chowder for supper,” he admitted, making Caitlin laugh for the first of many times during their afternoon together.
“How is Shane doing?” asked Marion as she served Caitlin a mug of mulled cider a few days later.
“Great,” she answered, scratching Pepper’s head, which he rested on her lap. “Although he’s disappointed because it’s unlikely his football team will make the playoffs this season.”
Marion gave her an amused look. “That’s too bad, but what I meant was how is he doing with the remodel?”
Embarrassed that it was obvious she’d been thinking about Shane in a personal way, Caitlin took a slow sip of cider before answering. “I haven’t been inside the windmill for ages, because I want to be surprised by how the remodel looks when it’s finished. But from what I’ve seen on the outside—especially the picture windows—Shane’s doing a fantastic job.”
“When does he plan to finish the project?”
“Around the middle of December. It all depends on when he can get the floorboards. He’s using reclaimed wood from an old sea captain’s house in Benjamin’s Manor. Apparently, one of his colleagues is renovating the home for a client who wants a more modern look. Shane says the wood is beautiful and in excellent condition, and I trust him completely, so—” Realizing she was rambling about Shane, Caitlin stopped mid-sentence and took another sip from her mug.
“It sounds lovely,” said Marion. Letting her off the hook, she switched topics. “Will you be going back to Santa Fe for Thanksgiving?”
“No. The flights are very expensive and it’s such a hectic time to travel. It doesn’t seem worth the expense and inconvenience for such a short visit,” Caitlin said. “My niece and nephews are sad about it, but I’m returning to Santa Fe on December 21, so I’ll be there to celebrate Christmas with them.”
“It’s understandable that you’d decide to stay put,” agreed Marion. “Have you made plans with anyone locally for the holiday?”
Since Shane and Marion were the only two people Caitlin really knew on the island, she wondered if what her neighborwas indirectly asking was whether she’d made plans to spend Thanksgiving with him. Which she hadn’t; Caitlin didn’t even know what Shane was doing for the holiday, but she imagined he was either getting together with Joyce and Sammy, or else he was going to Maine for a few days.
“No, I haven’t made plans with anyone. But that’s okay—I intend to buy a small, premade turkey pot pie for myself, which means the preparations and cleanup will be a cinch.” Caitlin chuckled, but Marion seemed stunned.
“You can’t spend Thanksgiving alone,” she said. “You must join my family and me. You won’t be disappointed. I don’t do all the cooking anymore, but between Darren, Jeannine, and me, we put on a good spread.”
“I’m sure you do, and I appreciate the invitation, but you’ve been looking forward to your grandchildren’s visit for ages. I don’t want to disrupt your family time together.”
“Pfft, you won’t be disrupting anything,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Iwantto have you there, and I won’t take no for an answer, so there’s no sense in arguing.”
Caitlin smiled. “Then I’d love to come, thank you. What can I bring?”
“You’re such a good baker. Would it be too much of an imposition for you to make pie?”
“I’d love to!” exclaimed Caitlin. “Does your family have a preference for pumpkin or apple?”
“We’d happily devour either—or both,” hinted Marion.
“I’ll make one of each. Is it okay if I also bring the cranberry sauce? The berries I bought from Lindgren farm were so fresh and tangy the last time I got them that I can’t wait to make more.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Marion lowered her voice, as if someone might overhear. “Just between you and me, my daughter-in-law usually serves cranberry sauce from a can. It’senough to make the Pilgrims roll over in their graves!” she said, causing Caitlin to crack up.
This is going to be a lot of fun, she thought later, as she tramped back to the cottage. If she couldn’t celebrate the holiday with her brother and his family in Santa Fe, celebrating it with Marion and hers seemed like the next best thing. And although her aunt and uncle weren’t there with her, Caitlin liked to believe they would be pleased to know she was finally spending Thanksgiving on Dune Island.
TWELVE
