Laughter in the Rain, page 1
Laughter in the Rain
A Novel
Debbie Macomber
Debbie Macomber Books
New York
Laughter in the Rain is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
2020 Debbie Macomber Ebook Edition
Copyright © 1986 by Debbie Macomber
Excerpt from A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber copyright © 2020 by Debbie Macomber
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Debbie Macomber Books, an imprint of Debbie Macomber, Inc.
Distributed by Penguin Random House LLC.
DEBBIE MACOMBER BOOKS is a registered trademark of Debbie Macomber, Inc.
Originally published in paperback in the United States by Harlequin Books, New York, in 1986.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
Ebook ISBN 9780593159903
Cover design and illustrations by Kimberly Glyder
v5.4
ep
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Ballantine Books by Debbie Macomber
About the Author
Excerpt from A Walk Along the Beach
One
“I’m so late. I’m so late.”
The words were like a chant in Abby Carpenter’s mind with every frantic push of the bike pedals. She was late. A worried glance at her watch when she paused at the traffic light confirmed that Mai-Ling would already be in Diamond Lake Park, wondering where Abby was. Abby should have known better than to try on that lovely silk blouse, but she’d seen it in the store’s display window and couldn’t resist. Now she was paying for the impulse.
The light turned green and Abby pedaled furiously, rounding the corner to the park entrance at breakneck speed.
Panting, she stopped in front of the bike stand and secured her lock around a concrete post. Then she ran across the lush green lawn to the picnic tables, where she normally met Mai-Ling. Abby felt a rush of relief when she spotted her.
Mai-Ling had recently immigrated to Minneapolis from Hong Kong. As a volunteer for the World Literacy Movement, Abby was helping the young woman learn to read English. Mai-Ling caught sight of her and waved eagerly. Abby, who’d been meeting her every Saturday afternoon for the past two months, was impressed by her determination to master English.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Abby apologized breathlessly.
Mai-Ling shrugged one shoulder. “No problem,” she said with a smile.
That expression demonstrated how quickly her friend was adapting to the American way of speaking—and life.
Mai-Ling started to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Abby asked as she slid off her backpack and set it on the picnic table.
Mai-Ling pointed at Abby’s legs.
Abby looked down and saw one red sock and one that was blue. “Oh dear.” She sighed disgustedly and sat on the bench. “I was in such a rush I didn’t even notice.” No wonder the salesclerk had given her a funny look. Khaki shorts, mismatched socks, and a faded T-shirt from the University of Minnesota.
“I am laughing with you,” Mai-Ling said in painstaking English.
Abby understood what she meant. Mai-Ling wanted to be sure Abby realized she wasn’t laughing at her. “I know,” she said as she zipped open the backpack and took out several workbooks.
Mai-Ling sat opposite Abby. “The man’s here again,” she murmured.
“Man?” Abby twisted around. “What man?”
Abby couldn’t believe she’d been so unobservant. She felt a slight twinge of apprehension as she looked at the stranger. There was something vaguely familiar about him, and that bothered her. Then she remembered—he was the same man she’d seen yesterday afternoon at the grocery store. Had he been following her?
The man turned and leaned against a tree not more than twenty feet away, giving her a full view of his face. His tawny hair gleamed in the sunshine that filtered through the leaves of the huge elm. Beneath dark brows were deep-set brown eyes. Even from this distance Abby could see their intense expression. His rugged face seemed to be all angles and planes. He was attractive in an earthy way that would appeal to a lot of women, and Abby was no exception.
“He was here last week,” Mai-Ling said. “And the week before. He was watching you.”
“Funny, I don’t remember seeing him,” she murmured, unable to disguise her discomfort.
“He is a nice man, I think. The animals like him. I am not worried about him.”
“Then I won’t worry, either,” Abby said with a shrug as she handed Mai-Ling the first workbook.
In addition to being observant, Mai-Ling was a beautiful, sensitive, and highly intelligent woman. Sometimes she became frustrated with her inability to communicate, but Abby was astonished at her rapid progress. Mai-Ling had mastered the English alphabet in only a few hours and was reading level two books.
A couple of times while Mai-Ling was reading a story about a woman applying for her first job, Abby’s attention drifted to the stranger. She watched in astonishment as he coaxed a squirrel down the trunk of a tree. He pulled what appeared to be a few peanuts from his pocket, and within seconds the squirrel was eating out of his hand. As if aware of Abby’s scrutiny, he stood up and sauntered lazily to the nearby lakeshore. The instant he appeared, the ducks squawked as though recognizing an old friend. The tall man took bread crumbs from a sack he carried and fed them. Lowering himself to a crouch, he threw back his head and laughed.
Abby found herself smiling. Mai-Ling was right, this man had a way with animals—and women, too, if her pounding heart was anything to judge by.
A few times Mai-Ling faltered over a word, and Abby paused to help her.
The hour sped by, and soon it was time for the young woman to meet her bus. Abby walked Mai-Ling to the busy street and waited until she’d boarded, cheerfully waving to Abby from the back of the bus.
Pedaling her bicycle toward her apartment, Abby let her thoughts again drift to the tall, good-looking stranger. She had to admit she was enthralled. She wondered if he was attracted to her, too, since apparently he came to the park every week while she was there. But maybe she wasn’t the one who attracted him; perhaps it was Mai-Ling. No, she decided. Mai-Ling had noticed the way the handsome stranger studied Abby. He was interested in her. Great, she mused contentedly. Logan Fletcher could do with some competition.
Abby pulled into the parking lot of her low-rise apartment building and climbed off her bike. Automatically she reached for her backpack, which she’d placed on the rack behind her, to get the apartment keys. Nothing. Surprised, Abby turned around to look for it. But it wasn’t there. Obviously she’d left it at the park. Oh no! She exhaled in frustration and turned, prepared to go and retrieve her pack.
“Looking for this?” A deep male voice startled Abby and her heart almost dropped to her knees. The bike slipped out from under her and she staggered a few steps before regaining her balance.
“Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone like that? I could have…” The words died on her lips as she whirled around to face the stranger. With her mouth hanging half open she stared into the deepest brown eyes she’d ever seen—the man from the park.
Her tongue-tied antics seemed to amuse him, but then it could also have been her mismatched socks. “You forgot this.” He handed her the backpack. Speechless, Abby took it and hugged it to her stomach. She felt grateful…and awkward. She started to thank him when another thought came to mind.
“How’d…How’d you know where I live?” The words sounded slightly scratchy, and she cleared her throat.
He frowned. “I’ve frightened you, haven’t I?”
“How’d you know?” She repeated the question less aggressively. He hadn’t scared her. If anything, she felt a startling attraction to him, to the sheer force of his masculinity. Logan would be shocked. For that matter, so was she. But up close, this man was even more appealing than he’d been at a distance.
“I followed you,” he said simply.
“Oh.” A thousand confused emotions dashed through her mind. He was so good-looking that Abby couldn’t manage another word.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, regret in his voice.
“You didn’t,” she hurried to assure him. “I have an overactive imagination.”
Shaking his head, he thrust his hands into his pants pockets. “I’ll leave before I do any more damage.”
“Please don’t apologize. I should be thanking you. There’s a Coke machine around the corner. Would you like to—”
& nbsp; “I’ve done enough for one day.” Abruptly, he turned to go.
“At least tell me your name.” Abby didn’t know where the request came from; it tumbled from her lips before she’d even formed the thought.
“Tate.” He tossed it over his shoulder as he stalked away.
“Bye, Tate,” she called as he opened his car door. When he glanced her way, she lifted her hand. “And thanks.”
A smile curved his mouth. “I like your socks,” he returned.
Pointedly she looked down at the mismatched pair. “I’m starting a new trend,” she said with a laugh.
Standing beside her bike, Abby waited until Tate had driven away.
* * *
—
Later that night, Logan picked her up and they had hamburgers, then went to a movie. Logan’s obligatory good-night kiss was…pleasant. That was the only way Abby could describe it. She had the impression that Logan kissed her because he always kissed her good night. To her dismay, she had to admit that there’d never been any driving urgency behind his kisses. They’d been dating almost a year and the mysterious Tate was capable of stirring more emotion with a three-minute conversation than Logan had all evening. Abby wasn’t even sure why they continued to date. He was an accountant whose office was in a building near hers. They had many of the same friends and did plenty of things together, but their relationship was in a rut. The time had come to add a little spice to her life, and Abby knew exactly where that spice would be coming from…
After Logan had left, Abby settled into the overstuffed chair that had once belonged to her grandfather and picked up a new thriller she’d bought that week.
Dano, her silver-eyed cat, crawled into her lap as Abby opened the book. Absently, she stroked the length of his spine. Her hand froze in mid-stroke as she discovered the hero’s name: Logan. Slightly unnerved, she dropped the book and jumped up from her chair to look for the remote. Turning on the TV, she told herself she shouldn’t feel guilty because she felt attracted to another man. The first thing she saw on the screen was a commercial for Logan Furniture’s once-a-year sofa sale. Abby stared at the flashing name and hit the off button. This was crazy! Logan wouldn’t care if she was interested in someone else. He might even be grateful. Their relationship was based on friendship and had progressed to romance, a romance that was more about routine than passion. If Abby was attracted to another man, Logan would be the first to step aside. He was like that—warm, unselfish, accommodating.
Her troubled thoughts on Saturday evening were only the beginning. Tate dominated every waking minute, which just went to prove how limited her social life really was. She liked Logan, but Abby longed for some excitement. He was so staid—yes, that was the word. Staid. Solid as a rock, and about as imaginative.
* * *
—
Logan came over to her apartment on Sunday afternoon, which was no surprise. He always came over on Sunday afternoons. They usually did something together, but never anything very exciting. More often than not, Abby went over to his house and made dinner. Sometimes they watched a movie. Or they played a game of backgammon, which he generally won. During the summer they’d ride their bikes; some of their most pleasant dates had been spent in Diamond Lake Park. Logan would lie on the grass and rest his head in her lap while she read whatever thriller or mystery she was currently devouring.
They’d been seeing each other so often that the last time they had dinner at her parents’ Abby’s father had suggested it was time they thought about getting married. Abby had been mortified. Logan had laughed and changed the subject. Later, her mother had tactfully reminded Abby that he might not be the world’s most exciting man, but he was her best prospect. However, Abby couldn’t see any reason to rush into marriage. At twenty-six, she had plenty of time.
“I thought we’d bike around the park,” Logan said.
The day was gloriously sunny, and although Abby wished Logan had proposed something more inventive, the idea was appealing. She enjoyed the feel of the breeze in her hair and the sense of exhilaration that came with rapid movement.
“Hi!” Abby and Logan were greeted by Patty Martin just inside the park’s boundaries. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” Logan answered for them as they braked to a stop. “How about you?”
Patty had recently started to work in the same office building as Logan, which was how Abby had met her. Although Abby didn’t know her well, she’d learned that Patty was living with her sister. They’d talked briefly at lunch one day, and Abby had invited her to join an office-league softball team she and Logan had played in last summer.
“I’m fine, too,” Patty answered shyly, and looked away.
In some ways she reminded Abby of Mai-Ling, who hadn’t said more than a few words to her the first couple of weeks they’d worked together. Only as they came to know each other did Mai-Ling blossom. Abby herself had never been shy. The world was her friend, and she felt certain Patty would soon be comfortable with her, too.
“I can’t talk now. I saw you and just wanted to say hello. Have fun, you two,” Patty murmured and hurried away.
Confused, Abby watched her leave. The girl looked like a frightened mouse as she scurried across the grass. The description was more than apt. Patty’s drab brown hair was pulled back from her face and styled unattractively. She didn’t wear makeup and was so shy it was difficult to strike up a conversation.
After biking around the lake a couple of times, they stopped to get cold drinks. As they rested on a park bench, Logan slipped an affectionate arm around Abby’s shoulders. “Have I told you that you look lovely today?”
The compliment astonished Abby; there were times she was convinced Logan didn’t notice anything about her. “Thank you. I might add that you’re looking very good yourself,” she said with twinkling eyes, then added, “but I won’t. No need for us both to get conceited.”
Logan smiled absently as they walked their bikes out of the park. His expression was oddly distant; in some ways he hadn’t been himself lately, but she couldn’t put her finger on anything specific.
“Do you mind if we cut our afternoon short?” he asked unexpectedly.
He didn’t offer an explanation, which surprised Abby. They’d spent most Sunday afternoons together for the past year. More surprising—or maybe not, considering her recent boredom with Logan—was the fact that Abby realized she didn’t care. “No, that shouldn’t be any problem. I’ve got a ton of laundry to do anyway.”
* * *
—
Back at her apartment, Abby spent the rest of the afternoon doing her nails, feeling lazy, and ignoring her laundry. She talked to her mother on the phone and promised to stop by sometime that week. Abby had been on her own ever since college. Her job as receptionist at an orthopedic clinic had developed with time and specialized training into a position as an X-ray technician. The advancement had included a healthy pay increase—enough to start saving to buy a house. In the meantime, she relished her independence, enjoying her spacious ground-floor apartment, plus the satisfaction of her job and her volunteer work.
* * *
—
Several times over the next few days, Abby discovered herself thinking about Tate. Their encounter had been brief, but it had left an impression on her. He was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in months.
“What’s the matter with you?” Abby admonished herself. “A handsome man gives you a little attention and you don’t know how to act.”
Dano mewed loudly and weaved between her bare legs, his long tail tickling her calves. It was the middle of June and the hot summer weather had arrived.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” She leaned over to pet the cat. “And don’t tell me you’re hungry. I know better.”
“Meow.”
“You’ve already had your dinner.”
“Meow. Meow.”
