"You're flushed, Mrs. Muir. Why don't you go upstairs, dear? I'll make sure the kids get to bed."
Martha shooed Carolyn out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Mrs. Muir positively glowed as she sashayed up the stairs, smiling furtively to herself. Love. Definitely. But who? The cute advertising man?
The housekeeper shrugged and pulled the dishcloth off her shoulder. She hoped that handyman with the tantalizing Adam's apple wasn't trying to call while Candy yakked away on the telephone.
Captain Gregg watched from the foyer, pulling on his ear as he mulled his options. Disconnect Candy's call and will the ridiculous Ed Peavey to phone? Dose Candy and Jonathan with a sudden surge of sleepiness? That would leave Martha giddy with happiness and Mrs. Muir free, for him. He sighed, contemplating the glory of his new family. The seaman folded his arms before disappearing up to the Widow's Walk for his evening nightcap of sea breeze.
To his astonishment, he almost rematerialized right into her. Mrs. Muir stood at the top of the stairs leading to the roof, arms outstretched as she tried to acclimate to the unexpected height of Gull Cottage's most-precarious perch.
She graced him with one of her wide smiles. With some trepidation, Carolyn reached for his outstretched hand. The Captain pulled her toward him, her diaphanous nightgown swirling in the wind.
"More female trickery, m'dear?" He kissed her nose before moving to her upper lip.
"Actually, I was hoping for a little ghostly debauchery now that you're no longer the wholesome spokes-ghost for the Admiral's clam chowder."
He stiffened.
"Upon one condition," the Captain whispered into her ear. Carolyn laughed wantonly and reached for his belt.
"I do. I promise to eat everything."