Page 55 of Whispers

“We’re friends,” Miranda said. That much wasn’t a lie.

“And so much more.”

“Really?” Claire, always the romantic, seemed intrigued.

Damn Weston Taggert and his big mouth.

“What’s it they say about people who live in glass houses?” Tessa asked as she plopped down in her chair again and spread a thick layer of jam onto her toast. “Something about not throwing stones?”

“You and Hunt?” Claire was still digesting the information and Miranda was certain her face, suddenly hot, had betrayed her. “For real?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

Tessa rolled her eyes.

“You are seeing him!” Claire’

s lips twitched into a small smile. “I don’t believe it.”

“Don’t. It’s nothing.” Now, that was a lie. Her feelings for Hunter were important, a very big deal, the single most meaningful relationship in her life.

Tessa made a disparaging sound in the back of her throat. “What would Daddy say, hmm? His oldest daughter, the serious, good girl, the one who plans on going to—where is it?—oh, yeah, either Radcliffe or Yale or Stanford, right?”

“Willamette.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Such lofty ideals, when really she’s out doing God only knows what with the caretaker’s son.” Clucking her tongue, Tessa wagged her head dramatically from side to side. “And Mama, oh, Randa, think what she’d say about dating someone beneath your station.”

“He’s not beneath—” Miranda snapped her mouth shut. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“You started it.”

“And I’m ending it right now!” She glanced at her watch again. “Where is Ruby? She’s never late.”

“Cut her a break, will ya? Mom and Dad are in Portland. She’s probably just sleeping in. You know what they say. When the cat’s away . . .” Tessa licked the corner of her lip.

“You’re just full of old-time sayings, aren’t you?”

“If the shoe fits—”

“Oh, stop it!” Claire took a long swallow of her coffee. “I think you two should be the first to know.”

“Know what?” Miranda felt a niggle of fear climb up her spine.

“Uh-oh.” Tessa’s grin faded.

“I’ve made a big decision.” Claire took a deep breath.

“About?” Miranda prodded.

Tessa shook her head as if she’d already guessed.

Claire set down her cup, managed a rather weak-looking smile, and held out her left hand. On her ring finger a diamond winked proudly in the morning light. “It’s official,” she said, her voice trembling a bit, uncertainty written all over her even features. “We don’t care what anyone else thinks. Harley and I are getting married.”

Thirteen

Kendall’s tears were real and bitter. They rained from her porcelain blue eyes and drizzled down her chin. “You can’t,” she whispered, her fists balling in his shirt, her body limp with grief. “You can’t marry her.”

She was standing on the deck of her parents’ beach house, the winds off the Pacific fierce, sand blowing through the dunes and onto the floor. The morning sun was weak, and Harley felt cold as death. He’d come to tell Kendall because he thought she should be the first to know. Now he realized what a mistake he’d made.