won an award for it, you know. I won’t be re-creating the entire sculpture this weekend, but I’m going to carve a life-sized sleigh, in honor of the Sleigh and Sled Parade. You’ll actually be able to climb up on it. I’ll also carve a few smaller pieces. I do a beautiful curling snail with a textured shell and little antennae, for instance.”
“How long does all that take?” Candy asked.
“It goes pretty fast. A few hours per piece, I suppose. The larger sculptures will take longer, of course. We’ll work in teams, which will help, but we’ll be at it all day Friday and Friday night, and into Saturday morning.”
She also talked about an international competition she’d recently attended in Alaska and an upcoming one at the Winter Carnival in Quebec. “That’s my favorite event. You’ve been to the carnival, haven’t you? No? Oh, you really should go. There’s a whole circuit the ice carvers travel, you know. Some even head Down Under in the summer—a perpetual-winter sort of thing. It brings in a few extra dollars. I’ve been once or twice. Every little bit helps, you know? Hey, who is that guy? Is he with you?”
Caught off-guard, Candy turned to look back over her shoulder. “Who?”
“That guy there. The one with the shaggy brown hair.”
Candy focused in the direction she was pointing, and felt a jolt of surprise. “You mean
Felicia was talking about Ben.
“He’s adorable,” Felicia said hungrily. “Just my type. You don’t happen to know if he’s available, do you?”
“He… what? Available?” Candy didn’t know how to respond.
“Yeah, you know, is he hitched? Married? Divorced?”
“Um, yes, he’s divorced… I think so… I mean…”
“If I lived in this town, I’d scoop him right up,” Felicia said, studying Ben. But after a few moments her gaze shifted to Candy. “Are you a friend of his? I saw you two walking in together.”
Candy’s mind flashed through a half dozen responses, but she went with the safest, easiest, least-revealing one. “He’s my boss.”
“Ahh.” Felicia nodded. “So you’re kinda chummy with him, is that it?”
Candy allowed herself a brief smile. “That’s an interesting way to describe it, but yeah, something like that.”
“So you, what, kinda date and stuff but nothing too serious yet? Just a casual sort of thing, right?”
Again, Candy hesitated. She didn’t know exactly what Felicia was after, and decided the best course was a cautious one. “Ben and I are good friends,” she said definitively.
“Uh-huh.” Felicia crossed her arms in front of her as she turned her hawklike gaze back to Ben. “I think I understand. Wonder what he’s saying to Gina.”
“Who?” For the first time it registered with Candy that Ben was in the midst of a conversation with another woman—a rather plain-looking sculptor with dirty blonde hair, wearing a faded light blue jacket, unflattering jeans, and scuffed work boots. Her long knit scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck, and her hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of her jacket. She looked unhappy about something.
“Gina Templeton, of the self-absorbed Templetons,” Felicia explained. She frowned and glanced at Candy. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that. She’s actually not that bad a person. It’s just that her husband, Victor, won a few international competitions, and now she thinks she’s the queen bee of the ice-carving circuit. She’s a decent carver herself, though not nearly as talented as her husband. He’s the true artist in that family—his stuff is fantastic.”
Candy looked around, intrigued. “Is he here? I’d like to talk to him.”
Together they scanned the crowd. After a moment Felicia nodded toward another group. “I don’t see Victor, but have you talked to Liam yet? He’s the other alpha dog out here. More than likely you can expect to see at least one blowup between him and Victor this weekend.”
Candy’s gaze shifted to Liam Yates, the tall, blond Vermonter, who was presently talking to Oliver LaForce, the owner of the Lightkeeper’s Inn. Also with them was the inn’s new executive chef, Colin Trevor Jones, a young, up-and-coming French Canadian from New Brunswick, east of Maine. With his black wavy hair, finely etched features, and quick, bright smile, Colin had set more than one heart aflutter since he’d landed in town last fall. But he’d proven to be a little clumsy around women, and somewhat tongue-tied when out in a crowd. In the kitchen, however, he was a whiz. He’d already developed a reputation around town for his “classic maritime” cuisine, highlighted by such dishes as crab crepes, lobster bisque, fish chowder, mushroom and beet salad, and French Canadian pork pie. Word was that he’d roughly doubled traffic in the inn’s restaurant over the holiday season, and his daily and weekend specials were a constant draw for villagers and out-of-towners alike.
Despite Colin’s shyness, Oliver LaForce was not hesitant about promoting his newly acquired and buzz- worthy chef, especially when he realized he could exploit Colin’s hidden talent—ice carving. Growing up on hockey rinks in New Brunswick, Colin had taken easily to the icy art, starting in his midtwenties. Now, just a few years later, he was beginning to establish a name for himself. Oliver had taken advantage of the fact, inserting himself and his chef into the event’s program.
Candy turned her attention back to Liam. He had a confident attitude, bordering on cocky, Candy decided after watching him for a few moments. She didn’t even have to hear what he was saying—she could imagine his words in her head. She’d run into enough men like him—and a few women—when she’d worked in marketing down in Boston a lifetime ago. She’d been happy enough to leave that life behind, but echoes of it continually returned to her, even in this quiet seaside village.
“I haven’t talked to him yet,” Candy said, fixing her gaze on him, “but he’s on my interview list.”
“Just make sure you don’t buy into his bullcrap,” Felicia said, an edge of anger creeping into her voice. “He tends to lay it on pretty thick. And he’s completely untrustworthy. Don’t believe a thing he says.” Abruptly she caught herself, as if she’d gone too far, and clamped her mouth shut. She scanned the crowd, searching for a way to change the subject. “I don’t see Victor anywhere, but he must be around. Until he shows up, you should talk to Gina.”
She turned back to Candy. “In fact, I’ll tell you what. If you introduce me to your hunky friend Ben, I’ll introduce you to Gina and Victor.”
At that proposal, Candy could only laugh. She gave Felicia a quick wave. “I think I’ll take a rain check, but thanks for the information.”
She started off as casually as possible, vowing to keep a sharp eye on Felicia. But for now she had another goal in mind, and someone else she needed to talk to. She had to be discreet about it, though. Her goal was to head toward a stand of trees gathered near the center of the park, but first, as nonchalantly as possible, she circled around to the other side of the work area, where blocks of ice were still being manhandled and placed. As she walked, she thought about Felicia’s comments. The dark-haired woman’s attraction to Ben was obvious, but Candy was uncertain of how much it bothered her.
She supposed her relationship with Ben was, well, a little strange to most people. Generally, any single woman her age would probably work quickly to tie up an eligible bachelor like Ben. But Candy had never been much in a rush to do that, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Just something inside of her, some sort of intuition, told her the timing wasn’t right. Ben seemed to sense it too, which resulted in a certain comfort level between the two of them.
Or maybe they’d both become too complacent about the casual nature of their relationship. Ben had been changing lately—more involved, yet more reclusive in some ways, but nothing she considered out of the norm. Just typical for a Caper.
When she felt an appropriate amount of time had passed, and she was sure no one was watching, she slipped off to her right, away from all the activity, and into the denser stand of trees.
Judicious F. P. Bosworth was waiting for her.
Seven
