She understood where he was coming from, she thought.
She wandered into the garden and looked around, savoring the little slice of paradise that was Mitchell's creation. She had spent enough time in Eclipse Bay to know that, while everyone in the vicinity was quick to point out his legendary character flaws and remind you of his several failed marriages, no one disputed Mitchell's brilliance as a gardener. Gardening 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 make a big deal about it here in Eclipse Bay, given what happened in the past and all."
Mitchell reached down and plucked a lush orange-gold bloom. "Funny thing about the past. The older you get, the less it matters."
She fell silent for a long moment, shifting gears as she adjusted to the turn of events. "If Sullivan made some calls, you probably know about Aunt Claudia." She took a deep breath. "That she's gone, I mean."
"Yeah." Mitchell looked up from the rose. His gaze was steady and a little sad. "Heard she passed on a year and a half ago. Heart problems, Sullivan said."
She felt the familiar tightening inside. Eighteen months but she still had to fight back the tears. "She never managed to give up the cigarettes. In the end, the doctor said it was amazing she made it as long as she did."
"I remember Claudia and her cigarettes. She was always reaching for the next one. Had herself a fancy little gold lighter. I can still see her taking it out of her purse to light another smoke."
"Mitchell, let me get something straight here. Are you telling me that you and Sullivan don't care that I'm related to Claudia Banner?"
"Of course we care. But it's not exactly what you'd call a problem for us."
"Oh." She was not sure how to respond to that.
"Can't say we weren't a bit curious at first, though," he added dryly.
"I can imagine. Why didn't you say something? Ask questions? Demand an explanation? I've stopped by here almost every morning or afternoon when I'm in town to say hello. I must have talked to you dozens of times since Lillian's show. But you never said a word. I've seen Sullivan on several occasions, too. He never gave any indication that he knew who I was."
"It was your personal business. Sullivan and I talked about it some. Figured we'd let you tell us in your own time."
"I see." She thought about that for a while. "Did you, uh, mention your little insight to anyone else?"
"Nope. Didn't figure it was anyone else's affair."
"Believe me, I understand." She wrinkled her nose. "If word got out that Claudia Banner's great-niece was in town and that she had become friends with the Madisons and the Hartes, there would be no end to the wild rumors and speculation. That's exactly why I kept a low profile."
"Yeah?"
"It wouldn't have been fair to you Madisons or to the Hartes. You've all suffered enough over the years because of what happened when you got involved with Aunt Claudia."
Mitchell snorted. "Madisons and Hartes are used to folks around here talking about us. Claudia may have been the spark that started the feud, but you can't blame her for the fact that Sullivan and I kept it going all those years. Hell, Madisons and Hartes have been inspiring conversation here in Eclipse Bay all by ourselves for decades. Got a real talent for it. Sometimes I think the good Lord put us on this earth just to keep this town entertained."
In other words, her concern for discretion and the privacy of the Madison and Harte families had been a complete waste of time and energy on her part. She sighed inwardly. Not only was she not needed here, Mitchell and Sullivan hadn't even cared enough about her presence in town to ask for explanations.
The day was getting more depressing by the minute.
"Well, that's that, then, isn't it?" She straightened her shoulders, preparing to leave. "I just wanted you to know, Mitch." She took a step back. "Guess I'll be going." She retreated another step. "Your roses look incredible, by the way."