Summer in Eclipse Bay Read Free Page B

was his passion, and no one came between a Madison and his passion.
    She came to a halt on the other side of a bed of gloriously blooming rose bushes.
    "I've made a decision, Mitch."
    He looked up at her from the padded kneeling bench he was using to work around the plants. He had the face of an aging, beat-up old gunslinger, she thought fondly, one who had only hardened with the years; a guy who could still hold his own against the young toughs if called upon to do so.
    "What kind of decision?" Mitchell demanded.
    The sharpness of his tone was a surprise. Mitchell never spoke sharply to her.
    "I'll be leaving town at the end of the summer," she said.
    "You mean you'll be spending more time back in Portland." He nodded, evidently satisfied, and went back to his weeding. "I can see where you might need to give more attention to your gallery there come fall. It's a much bigger operation."
    "No," she said gently, "I mean that I will be leaving Eclipse Bay for good at the end of the summer season. I plan to sell both branches of Bright Visions."
    He stiffened, eyes narrowing against the fading sun. "You're gonna sell up? Well, shoot and damn. Why the hell do you want to go and do a thing like that?"
    "It's time." She smiled to cover the wistful feeling. "Past time, really. In fact, I probably shouldn't have come here in the first place."
    "Not a lot of money in the art business here in Eclipse Bay, huh?" He shrugged. "No surprise there, I reckon. Eclipse Bay isn't exactly the art capital of the universe."
    "Actually, the gallery here is doing fairly well. We drew clients from Chamberlain College and the institute this past winter, and now with summer here, we're picking up a lot of tourist business. Bright Visions is starting to get a reputation as an important art stop here on the coast."
    His brows bunched together. "You're saying your business here is doing all right?"
    "Yes, I expect to sell at a profit."
    "Then why the hell are you talking about pulling out?"
    "As I said, I think it's time for me to go."
    He squinted at her. "You don't sound right. You feeling okay today, Octavia?"
    "Yes."
    "Not coming down sick, are you?"
    "No."
    "Shoot and damn. What's going on here?" He holstered the trowel he had been wielding, gripped the handholds on the low gardener's bench, and hauled himself to his feet. He seized his cane and turned around to confront her, scowling ferociously. "What's all this talk about leaving?"
    "There's something that I want to tell you, Mitch. I don't plan to let a lot of other folks know because I don't want to upset people and cause talk. Lord knows, there's been enough gossip about the Hartes and the Madisons in this town. But you and I are friends. And I want my friends to know who I am."
    "I know who you are." He thumped the cane once on the gravel walk. "You're Octavia Brightwell."
    "Yes, but there's more to the story." She looked at him very steadily and braced herself to deliver the shocker. "Claudia Banner was my great-aunt."
    To her astonishment he merely shrugged. "You think we didn't figure that out a while back?"
    She stilled. "
We
?"
    "Sullivan and me. He and I have slowed down some over the years, but we haven't come to a complete stop. Not yet, at any rate."
    She didn't know what to say. "You
know
?"
    "Sullivan spotted the likeness the night you hosted that show for Lillian's paintings down at your little gallery. Soon as he pointed it out, I finally realized why there had always been something sort of familiar about you." He smiled faintly. "You look a lot like Claudia did when she was your age. Same red hair. Something about your profile, too, I think. The way you hold yourself."
    "But how did you-"
    "Sullivan made some phone calls. Did some checking. Wasn't hard to find the connection."
    "I see." She was feeling a little stunned, she realized. Maybe a little deflated, too. So much for her big bombshell.
    "Not like you tried to hide it," Mitchell said.
    "No, but I certainly didn't want to