Last Chance Harbor (38 page)

“Maybe that’s proof I upset him in some way.”

“Why?”

“Okay, I threw a magazine at him the night you were so sick.”

“Ah. Somehow he doesn’t look like the type that would let a magazine keep him out of a house. Did you ever think up a name for this place?”

“You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Lay it on me.”

“I could keep calling it the gingerbread cottage but that just doesn’t work for me. Gingerbread brings to mind gumdrops and Christmas and… I want a different kind of house altogether. I feel as though I’m building my own sandcastles here in a new place so… Sandcastle Cottage?” 

“Not bad. I’ll make a plaque for it, put it on the front of the house to make it official.”

“That would be perfect.”

“Brent’s decided on a site for the new police station, using the office where Springer Realty used to be. He wants the sign taken down and the work to begin as soon as possible.”

The look of concern on his face told her something else was bothering him. “Why does that trouble you?”

“There’s so much work here, I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake on a business venture right now that could be slow-going for all of us.”

“Ryder, is it something you’ve always wanted to do? If it is then go for it, don’t let fear prevent you from doing what you want.”

“Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. A commercial loan now might be a foolhardy jump. Once we get the money the boatyard will still have to undergo its own rehab. So close to the water that building is in pretty sad shape with rot. And we’ll have to buy equipment, saws of our own, mahogany, teak, and all kinds of wood, whatever the customer wants. All three of us will more than likely still have to take on jobs whenever we can get them in order to sock away money to pay the loan back during the lean times. What if…?”

She put her fingers to his lips to stop him from going on. “I’ve no doubt you’ll make it work. In fact, you all three will.”

“You believe in me, in the business?”

“You know I do.”

“Logan’s hard at work on the dolphin sculpture that’s slated to go in front of the school.”

“The pod with babies. With his own babies, where does he find the time?”

“Same place we all do. We put in the hours, catch sleep when we can, and hope like hell we meet the deadline. Nick and Logan authorized payment to Cleef for all the salvaged materials. We’ll have the shipment of desks and old lockers delivered to a designated workshop. We’ll need a separate space, other than the school, to sand and repair the old stuff, rehab the wood and metal in order to have it all ready when the work is done at the site.”

“Refinishing those old lockers will be a chore. You’ll need volunteers. Just talking about everything that has to be completed over the next few months makes me exhausted and a whole lot intimidated.”

They were packing up to go home for the night when Landon and Shelby showed up.

“We know you haven’t had time to paint the outside yet because you’ve been concentrating on the inside. That’s one of the reasons we’d like to do it for you.”

“I couldn’t let you do that, Mr. Jennings. I planned to get to it once I get moved in.”

“Landon,” he reminded her in his easy manner. “Call me Landon. It’s what we want to do for you. We all talked about it and Caleb and Drea want to get rid of that pink color.” From his pocket, Landon pulled out at least twenty paint cards, sample exterior shades for her to choose from. “You look these over. Make your choice and we’ll do the rest.”

She tried to protest again but it went nowhere. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Why? Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because my family and I have a stake in seeing you settled here. We want it to happen almost as much as you do.” He twisted up his mouth. “Okay, maybe I dragged my feet at the beginning, but now that I know how much this means to the kids, I want it done with. Part of that is giving the place an entirely new look. Leave it to us. You pick the color scheme and we’ll make it happen.”

Because she wanted to get it right, Julianne spent three grueling days trying to come up with the perfect color. She avoided kitschy purples and Pepto-Bismol pinks for obvious reasons. She didn’t want Landon and his crew going to the trouble of painting only to slap the familiar florid shades of yesteryear on there.

At home, she researched pictures of the type of Cape Cod look she wanted to achieve. Finally, she settled on a soft pale yellow for the house itself, a snowy cream trim for the porch, the lattice work and the scalloped edges along the second story. But it needed a splash, a bold statement, something that said to the town she was unafraid of making a new start. For that, she picked an inviting shade of lavender for the shutters and the front door.

“It’s not purple,” she insisted when she glanced over at the surprise on Ryder’s face.

“Hey, bottom line is, it’s your investment, your money, and your house. You paint it the color you want. Forget about what anyone else wants and don’t let them strong-arm you into using something you find ugly.”

“But what do you think about my choices? Soft yellow with cream and lavender trim.”

“I think Sandcastle Cottage looks like a million bucks.”

She sighed. “Me too.”

Julianne and Ryder
weren’t the only ones making plans for the future.

Troy and Bree spread out on the bed inside his studio apartment shuffling through paperwork. The two were up late going over every document they thought they’d need for a business loan.

As they sorted through bank statements and Bree’s W-2 forms, she blew out a frustrated sigh. “This is hopeless. No one will ever give me a loan based on this. I don’t make enough, Troy. That’s the simple truth.”

“Don’t give up now, Bree. Promise me you won’t. We have a future together. This is the place.” He looked around the tiny studio. “Maybe not right here, but I’ve signed the papers on the house. Soon I’ll be able to start the rehab. We’ll make it all work. You’ll see. If I have to, I’ll ask Logan and Ryder for advice on how best to get the tour business up and going.”

She rolled into him, ran her fingers through his curly blond hair. “I love you, Troy.”

He kissed her mouth. “I love you, too. That’s why we’re going to make this a reality.”

M
oving day for Julianne came the last Saturday in May. With Memorial Day on Monday, she had a tough time getting the truck even though she’d reserved it two months in advance.

“Why do those places always make it so difficult on people stressed out from moving to begin with?” she wondered aloud to her dad as she pulled the eighteen-foot truck up to the curb in front of her house.

“Part of the pain that comes with moving means putting up with all the things that don’t go as planned.”

“I’d say waiting an hour for the truck definitely falls into that category. I hope the four college students I hired to help load didn’t give up and leave me in the lurch.”

“They’ll be here. Good thing it isn’t a long-haul move.”

“Long enough,” Julianne grumbled. “Nick assured me that all I need is someone on this end to load. He said that when I get to Pelican Pointe, there will be plenty of hands at the cottage. I hope he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Stop worrying,” John said for the tenth time that morning. “Ryder would be here if he wasn’t on a tight schedule getting your school ready.”

“It isn’t exactly my school. But yeah, I’d say his job is the more important one. They’re on a time crunch and the clock is ticking. I can’t believe next week is already June. I get the sense from Ryder they’re all feeling the deadline.” 

“What happens if they miss it?”

“I don’t even want to consider that possibility. Since we didn’t meet the pre-enrollment limit, it looks like we’ll open as a private school for now.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Nope. As long as those kids get a state-of-the-art education, I’m happy.”

As soon as she pulled the rental truck up to what she now thought of as Sandcastle Cottage, it wasn’t the new color scheme that caught her eye but Ryder. He stood beside the front door holding a drill, positioning the plaque in place. Her heart clutched at the sight of him.

It didn’t go unnoticed by her father.

“You’re falling for him?”

“Yes, I’d like to deny it but I won’t.”

Taken with the man, she totally missed the group of people standing off to the side. Nick had kept his word. He’d lined up six guys with strong backs to move her in and see to it she was settled.

“Let’s get you into your new place.”

Even with going up and down stairs, it took less than two hours for the men to get everything she owned out of the van and into the house. The consensus from them all was that the little cottage was a masterpiece of craftsmanship and creativity that looked nothing like its former abandoned self.

Another hour had them splitting the work to get the bed set up. They made sure to hook up the TV so she’d have sound and picture.

The hardworking guys refused payment but settled for sandwiches and beer instead.

After everyone left, Ryder busied himself with getting her desk organized and Wi-Fi set up so it worked. When he was done with connecting the wires, he discovered she wasn’t anywhere in the house and went looking for her.

He found her across the street sitting on the beach with her toes buried in the sand. Instead of unpacking, he couldn’t believe she was wasting time stacking a bunch of rocks on top of each other in an intricate, odd formation. But with her hair glittering raven black in the waning light, she looked like a gypsy who’d decided to make camp for the night.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m building a cairn with these pretty stones.”

“A what?”

“A cairn,” she repeated. “It’s to mark my new beginning here, my new path, a new chapter in my life.”

He grinned, shook his head. “You are something, you know that?”

Her lips curved up. “I hope so. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to hold your interest for more than five minutes.”

“I guarantee you’ll always manage to hold my interest.”

“I’m told
always
is a very long time. I can’t believe I’m really moved in.”

“Technically,” Ryder corrected. “You’re moved in but not unpacked.”

“I still have Sunday and Monday to get everything set up. You’re staying tonight, aren’t you?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

Once they got back to the house, she put clean, crisp sheets on the bed, puffed up pillows, even cut flowers to put by the bed.

They told themselves they were saving water by taking a long, hot shower together. The scent of vanilla and lavender hung in the air as anticipation built. Toweling off they drifted to the bedroom where the soulful voice of Moya Brennan echoed out of the speakers—the ones Ryder had insisted on hooking up.

The couple sunk down to the mattress. Still damp from the shower, they’d staved off need. But now their bodies still slick and steaming, they melded together in a blast of heat. He wasn’t sure who ravaged whom, only that whenever he touched her it felt like he could never get enough. He fed his desperation by savaging her mouth, then dragging her across the sheets. Their eyes locked, sharp crystal to velvet dark, as he plunged inside.