Exclusive excerpt: 'Silver Linings' by Debbie Macomber

Now that we at HEA are done doing our happy dance, we can introduce this excerpt from Debbie Macomber's new Cedar Cove romance, Silver Linings, out today.

About the book (courtesy of Ballantine Books):

Set in Cedar Cove's charming Rose Harbor Inn, Debbie Macomber's captivating new novel follows innkeeper Jo Marie and two new guests as they seek healing and comfort, revealing that every cloud has a silver lining, even when it seems difficult to find.

Since opening the Rose Harbor Inn, Jo Marie Rose has grown close to her handyman, Mark Taylor. Jo Marie and Mark are good friends—and are becoming something more—yet he still won't reveal anything about his past. When Mark tells her that he's moving out of town, Jo Marie is baffled. Just when she is starting to open herself up again to love, she feels once more that she is losing the man she cares about. And as she discovers the secret behind Mark's decision to leave, she welcomes two visitors also seeking their own answers.

Best friends Kellie Crenshaw and Katie Gilroy have returned to Cedar Cove for their ten-year high school reunion, looking to face down old hurts and find a sense of closure. Kellie, known as Coco, wants to finally confront the boy who callously broke her heart. Katie, however, wishes to reconnect with her old boyfriend, James—the man she still loves and the one who got away. As Katie hopes for a second chance, Coco discovers that people can change—and both look to the exciting possibilities ahead.

Heartwarming and uplifting, Silver Linings is a beautiful novel of letting go of the past and embracing the unexpected.

EXCERPT

"It's going to be a busy weekend," I said, sitting down on the top step and cupping my mug between my hands. The morning had a chill to it and the warmth from the coffee inched its way up my arm. Autumn was approaching and I could feel it in the air, with a light scent of pine and sunshine on the turning leaves. Rover sat down at my side, nestling close to me, almost as if he felt my anxiety.

Mark didn't comment.

"Two women are due to arrive later this afternoon. They both live in Seattle, but it's their ten-year class reunion. They said they didn't want to worry about getting back to the city in case the parties went late and so they booked for both Friday and Satur­day night."

He answered with a halfhearted shrug.

The silence between us felt oppressive. I found it difficult to carry on a one-sided conversation. The air between us seemed to throb with tension. It went without saying that Mark didn't want me anywhere close to him. He'd made it plain that he'd prefer to be just about anyplace I wasn't. If he truly did have feel­ings for me, then why the avoidance? Questions filled my head until I thought it would explode, but it did no good to ask. I'd tried that countless times and it was like butting my head against a brick wall.

When I heard the buzzer go off in the kitchen, indicating the French toast was ready to come out of the oven, I was almost grateful for the excuse to break away. Just before I entered the house, I looked back and saw his shoulders relax as if he was relieved to see me go. It was almost as if being close to me made him uncomfortable, and that was so unlike what it had once been. I missed the man who was a friend, who used to sit with me in the late afternoons. The one who listened as I talked about my day. Yes, he challenged and irritated me at times, but for the most part he made me think. He made me feel again when my heart had gone numb. I could laugh with Mark.

My guests, a couple in town for their only granddaughter's birthday celebration, lingered over breakfast and then checked out of the inn. They were headed to the airport. I went outside, stood on the porch and waved them off, but I was more inter­ested in Mark than I was in my departing guests. I looked for a way to break through that concrete wall he'd erected. At first I assumed he was embarrassed for confessing his feelings for me, but that didn't appear to be the case. I'd tried several times to get him to talk about it, but time and again he'd rebuffed my efforts. He was having none of it.

"The gazebo is looking great," I commented, trying yet again. I folded my arms around my middle. "You'll be finished soon." He'd done an amazing job with this latest project. The gazebo was exactly as I'd pictured it and big enough to use for weddings and small gatherings, just the way I'd hoped. I could easily pic­ture couples standing in the very structure as they pledged their love and their lives to each other.

Up to this point the bed-and-breakfast was barely breaking even financially. I needed a way to generate additional income, and offering the facility as a wedding venue seemed like a good idea.

"I see you've got the paint."

No comment.

His lack of response irritated me, so I returned to the house and grabbed a light sweater and Rover's leash. Walking my dog would help burn off the frustration. If Mark wanted to ignore me, then fine, I could give him all the breathing room he wanted and more.

When I returned with the leash, I found Rover lying on the grass close to where Mark worked. He rested his chin on his paws and kept close tabs on my handyman.

"You ready for a walk, Rover?" I asked. Generally, the instant he saw the leash Rover was on his feet, tail wagging energetically, eager to get going. Not this morning. Rover looked at me with dark brown eyes and then at Mark and then back again.

"Rover," I said again, with a bit more emphasis. "Let's take a walk."

"Go on," Mark said gruffly, nodding toward my dog.

"You talking to me or Rover?" I asked.

"Both of you."

"Fine." I walked over to Rover and attached his leash. He didn't seem all that interested until I tugged a little. He stood and we headed out of the yard. Rover paused and looked back at Mark much the same way I had earlier.

As soon as we left the driveway, I walked at a clipped pace to work off my irritation. The way I was feeling now, I considered myself well rid of Mark Taylor. If he wanted to move away from Cedar Cove, then it was fine by me. Good riddance! He was moody, cantankerous, and a pain in the butt.

By the time I'd walked two or three blocks, all uphill, I was winded. I'd walked so fast that I'd probably set a personal best, time-wise. The one positive was that the irritation I felt when I left the house had lessened. I took in several deep breaths and slowed my pace. Rover seemed grateful.

For reasons I didn't want to think about, I decided to walk past Mark's house. I remembered the time I'd found him in his workshop. A table had collapsed and pinned him down. He'd broken his leg and must have been in horrific pain.

Although he'd strongly objected, I called for help and fol­lowed the Aid Car to the hospital. After he was X-rayed and had a cast put on, I'd driven him home. One thing I could say about Mark was that he made a terrible patient. He'd snapped at me, complained, and issued orders as if I was personally responsible for his injury. He made it sound as if I was the very bane of his existence. Heaven only knew how long it would have taken for someone else to have found him—one would think he'd be grate­ful, but oh no, not Mark.

To be fair, he did thank me later. Weeks later, and even then the appreciation had come grudgingly.

Although Mark claimed to be in love with me, the thing was, I didn't know how I felt about him. I'd hardly been given the chance to absorb his declaration, let alone react to it. I wanted to talk about it, but he was having none of that.

The thing with Mark was that we disagreed on almost every subject. It took me a while to catch on that he purposely egged me on. At first he infuriated me. Not until later did I realize that arguing with him stirred my senses. I'd wallowed in my grief for months. Arguing with Mark lit a fire under me and proved my emotions hadn't stagnated. I still had the ability to feel.

I'd gotten used to spending time with Mark. We played Scrab­ble and would sometimes sit out on the porch at the inn and watch the sun set. He'd helped me plant a garden and I shared the produce with him. I'd enjoyed being with Mark, and missed the times we shared. I missed him. And this was only a foretaste of what was to follow if I believed that he was indeed moving away.

…

I turned the corner to the street where Mark lived. As if he knew exactly where we were headed, Rover strained against the leash.

"Mark isn't at his house," I reminded my dog. "There's no need to rush; he isn't home."

Rover barked as if discounting my words and pulled ever harder on the leash.

"Rover, Mark's at the inn."

I had to half run in order to keep up with my dog. It was as if Rover had something to show me, something he felt was impor­tant for me to see.

I didn't understand what was happening until I came closer, and when I saw Mark's house, I came to a dead stop.

The sign was prominently posted in front of the house, square on the edge of the grass, for anyone and everyone who drove by to see.

It was a local Realtor's sign that read in large red letters: for sale.

This was no ruse, no trick. Mark was serious. He was leaving Cedar Cove, and more important, he was leaving me.

Find out more about Debbie and her books at www.debbiemacomber.com.

Excerpt from the book Silver Linings by Debbie Macomber. Copyright © 2015 by Debbie Macomber. Reprinted by arrangement with Ballantine, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.