whichââ
âThatâs all well and good, but what should I tell the architect?â Seth broke in. He ran his fingers forcefully through his hair.
Justine was horrified that Seth had already spoken to an architect and wondered when heâd done this. Heâd been gone a couple of afternoons but hadnât mentioned where he was or with whom. Nor had Justine questioned him. The truth was, it had been a relief to have him out of the house. Seth found it impossible to remain in any one place.When he was home, he stalked from room to room, unable to work at anything or even read for more than a few minutes. Unable to relax.
âYour policy covers loss of income for a year,â Robert Beckman continued, flipping a page on his clipboard. âIf construction time goes over that, we can request an extension.â
âSo the sooner we get started, the better, donât you agree?â Seth asked. âFor the company and for us.â
Robert gave another of his soothing replies, and, unwilling to listen to any more, Justine walked across the parking lot to stand at the farthest edge, which over-looked the cove. The wind carried a briny scent on this overcast day, shrouding the pungent smell of smoke.
The view of the cove always calmed her. She absorbed that peace now, needing it to settle her pounding heart. Seth had taken matters into his own hands; without so much as talking to her, heâd held discussions with an architect. When theyâd first conceived the idea of The Lighthouse, Justine had been involved in every aspect of the planning. Now Seth had excluded her.
The fire and its aftermath were so much worse than she would ever have believed. Her husband had turned into a stranger, a man Justine neither knew nor liked. The temptation to escape, to pack a suitcase and disappear, grew stronger every day.Warren had offered her the use of a summer cottage on Hood Canal. It sounded so peaceful there. Leif would love to walk along the beach, exploring, wading in the water. She could picture him now, digging for clams with his small shovel, his laughter spilling out into the wind. Not once since Leif was born had they taken a family vacation. The Lighthouse had filled every waking minute. Only in the absence of the restaurant and its demands was she beginning to see how completely it had taken over their lives.
âJustine.â Seth placed his hand on her shoulder as he came up behind her. âEverythingâs going to be all right, sweetheart,â he said, his voice conciliatory.
âI know.â The fire, the destruction of the restaurant, was no longer her main concern. What worried her was the effect itâd had on her husband.
âI realize Iâve been a little cranky lately.â
She smiled and pressed her hand on top of his. To say heâd been âa little crankyâ was an understatement of major proportions.
âEverything will be all right,â he said again, âonce we find out who did this to us.â
âWill it?â she asked, but apparently Seth didnât hear her because he didnât respond.
Justine tilted her head to one side so her cheek could rest against his hand. âYouâre already talking about rebuilding,â she murmured.
âOf course. I want to get started as soon as possible. Donât you?â
She shrugged. âI donât know anymore.â
âWhat do you mean, you donât know?â He laughed and seemed to assume she was joking. âWeâre in the restaurant business. This is how we make our living. Unless we rebuild, we wonât have an income.â
âYes, butâ¦â
Her husband went still for a moment. âI canât go back to fishing, Justine.â
Being a professional fisherman was a hard, dangerous life, and theyâd agreed that Seth would give it up for good. His father had encouraged him in that decision.
âI wouldnât want you to