Katie and Found--Preview #7

After their first reunion, Peter is determined to learn all he can about the woman Tess has become and her life at Walnut Lodge. If she isn't willing to tell him, he'll just have to find out some other way.

Peter watched out of the corner of his eye as Tess circled the dining room, pouring coffee and talking with patrons. She looked lovely, sleek and elegant in a classic black dress that suited her magnificent figure to perfection. Her hair was swept up a simple twist with a few errant curls framing her face and neck. This was not Katie Adams. This woman was the antithesis of the girl he remembered, as refined and restrained as Katie had been blunt and spontaneous. It was easier to think of her as Tess now that he watched her in action.

Earlier in the parking lot he’d fallen into conversation with a couple who’d apparently known Tess and her late husband for years. A few moments of allowing them to admire his car and they provided a wealth of information. From their comments he gathered that Jim Weldon had been liked and respected, that together he and Tess built Walnut Lodge into the business it was now. He learned that Tess’s husband died after an extended illness, and that Weldon’s ashes were scattered over the grounds of what had been his lifetime home. He also picked up on the fact that her friends worried Tess would bury herself here at Walnut Lodge in the effort to carry on her husband’s legacy. Watching her now, he felt certain she was doing what she loved. There was no hint of obligation in the easy way she went about her job.

He lingered as the dining room emptied, wondering if Tess would continue to ignore him. Not once had she paused at his table, as she had countless times at all the others. Clearly she was uncomfortable with his presence here. He wanted to know precisely why before he considered making other plans. Things might not have worked out for them all those years ago, but he had yet to understand exactly what had happened. Until he did, he was unwilling to accept sole responsibility or let Tess push him away.

He ordered a second brandy and settled in his chair, pretending to stare out the window, while in fact he observed Tess’s reflection. When the last group of diners wished her good night, she glanced around the room before going to the kitchen, still ignoring him. He wondered if that was his cue to leave until she reappeared, bottle and glass in hand, and headed straight for his table. Even in the distorted reflection, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

“May I join you? You look as though you’re in no hurry to leave.” Setting a bottle of the brandy he was drinking in the center of the table, she stood waiting. This was his chance. She’d come of her own volition. Surely that meant she wanted to have the same conversation he did.

“Please do. I’ve been waiting for you.”
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