Last Chance Harbor (50 page)

Authors: Vickie McKeehan

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor

10.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The day the sculptor hauled his artistic endeavor in front of the school, a crowd gathered to watch six men unload the heavy statue and wrestle it into place on a circular piece of concrete. They would later bolt the bronze sculpture into its base. For now, when they untied the tarp it revealed a mother dolphin that stood seven-feet high from nose to slightly curved tail. She splashed up and out of the water, jumping into the air in whimsical play, surrounded by her two babies.

Ryder could have chosen that venue. But in the end he decided it was too public. For what he had in mind he needed ambiance. He’d never considered himself a romantic. That’s why it would take planning on his part.

His opening came after dinner one evening. After going through what had become their ordinary routine—eating supper and then doing the dishes together—he’d thrown the towel on the counter and taken Julianne by the hand.

“Take a walk with me.”

“It is a nice night for it.”

Ryder laced his fingers with hers and tugged her down the front steps. In the August heat they crossed the street, leaving behind Sandcastle Cottage. A slight breeze stirred the air as they made their way past houses and greeted neighbors watching the sun go down from their front porches.

Once they reached the beach, the calm waters in the bay, made him realize this was a chance to show her what could be. With each step he took his nerves slid away.

He was so quiet tonight, so thoughtful, Julianne decided. She was sure something was bothering him. Maybe it was the pressure of beginning the business venture.

Hearing that first chop of waves, that first slap to land, she figured it was up to her to get his mind off something else. “You know, no matter how many times I ask I can’t convince Cooper or either one of his siblings to set foot inside their childhood home.”

“I’ve seen Coop around the pier. He won’t even spare a glance at it.”

“I think the younger ones are supporting their older brother’s decision to avoid the house. I don’t take it personal though. I understand Coop’s up against bad memories here and that it’ll take time. Drea’s been sweet though, she sent us three dozen white roses, one dozen from each of them for being able to convince Cooper to come back. Since she put your name on the card, I guess that means half of those flowers are yours.”

“That’s generous of you. I want my half.” He picked her up, swung her around before setting her feet back down again.

Julianne rolled out a belly laugh. “Drea even wrote me a note. Something about bringing the house joy and love to replace all the nasty words, the bad arguments that went on inside there while the kids were growing up.”

With the sun going down over the harbor as the backdrop, Ryder unlocked the door to Tradewinds Boatyard.

Inside, Julianne spotted the trail of red rose petals first, then tracked the path leading from the door up to an old wooden crate. On top sat a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne stuffed down in the cubes.

“Ryder.”

“I hope we can celebrate.” He pulled out a box from his jeans pocket and flipped up the lid, revealing a rose-cut vintage diamond solitaire. “I found it at an antique shop in San Sebastian. If you don’t like it…”

“Oh, Ryder, it’s beautiful. I love it! You shouldn’t have spent the money.”

He put a finger to her lips, silencing the protest. “That’s the last thing I’m here to talk about is money. I was aiming for classic yet different. With the ring.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “You succeeded. Slip it on. It’s gorgeous. And this…” She eyed the romantic gesture a few feet away.

He slid the ring on her finger, tilted up her chin. “I haven’t felt this kind of peace in so long. That’s your doing. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I want to be able to turn to you in the middle of the night and hear you say my name. I love it when you say my name when we’re making love. I love you, Julianne. I want to know if you’ll marry a boatbuilder, a carpenter, a risk-taker.”

“Absolutely. Yes. Yes. I was hoping you’d get around to asking me one day.”

He picked her up again, spun her around before dipping his head to brush his lips to hers. They clung to each other and the realization they’d both found home.

Epilogue

Four weeks later

First day of school

Pelican Pointe, California

J
ulianne stationed herself outside the main entrance.

In full swing, first day frenzy had children hurrying past her to class, as parents accompanied some of them inside to meet the teachers.

She knew their eagerness would change and lessen as the year wore on. But today, she did what she could to keep that electricity in the air, to meet and greet. She had a huge advantage. She already knew most of the names of the students and their parents who dropped them off. She knew she’d hired the cream of the crop and knew her staff would do the best job around.

She waved to Lilly and Wally making their way up the steps with brown-eyed Kyra in tow along with a wide-eyed Hutton walking between Nick and Jordan. Both girls proudly carried their tote bags. Julianne smiled knowing they’d be in good hands in Ms. Warner’s kindergarten class.

Julianne bent down, closer to eye-level to talk to both girls. “Hi there. I love your dresses. Did you pick them out yourselves?”

Kyra bobbed her head up and down but tugged on her dad’s hand. “We need to hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

Wally grinned. “You have an eager scholar here.”

“I see that. A teacher needs more Kyras.” Julianne turned to Hutton, noticed her hanging back, a bit wary at the bustle happening around her. But she thought she knew how to get around that. “Hutton, are you ready to learn how to write your name?”

“I already know how to do that,” Hutton burst out, her voice tinged with pride.

Pleased that she’d gotten a response, Julianne straightened and took in the anxious parents. “Hutton will be fine. This is Ms. Warner’s third year and she knows the ins and outs of making each of her students feel like they’re special.”

Jordan dabbed at her eyes. “It seems like yesterday my baby was in diapers.”

“I remember changing a few of those and it wasn’t that long ago,” Nick echoed, scooping his son, Scott, up in his arms.

“Mom! Dad! Don’t embarrass me like that,” Hutton sang out. “I’m not a baby. You still have Scott at home with you. He’s the baby. Now it’s time for me to go to class like Kyra.”

No, Hutton wasn’t a baby, Julianne decided as she watched the three of them walk through the double doors. But with those big blue eyes and that smile on her face, Hutton did look an awful lot like her daddy.

After the first bell rang, Julianne dealt with her first emergency of the day—wet pants from a five-year-old who’d waited too long to concede the fact he needed to go. Good thing she kept several spare changes of clothes on hand, suitable for both boys and girls.

Recess was the-free-for-all she knew it to be that tested the new playground equipment—thankfully without any major mishaps. At noon, she supervised the pickup for the kindergarten class, which went better than expected. But it was lunch where hungry kids finally settled down long enough to eat. By this time they’d worked out their worries and uneasiness to enjoy what they’d brought from home or picked out from the list of school lunch offerings.

Julianne was helping to maintain order and usher the kids back to afternoon classes when she spotted a metal lunch box someone had left behind. She picked it up, stared at the dated image on the front depicting Luke Skywalker sitting in the swamp with his mentor, Yoda and R2-D2 along for the ride.
The Empire Strikes Back
logo stretched across the top. Her flea market sense kicked in knowing it was someone’s cherished token from the past. She flipped the latch down and the lid back to look inside for the owner’s name. She saw a hint of markings scrawled on the Thermos and picked it up to make out what it said. She bobbled the plastic container, almost dropped it when she read the name, Scott Phillips, handwritten in black, bold print across the side in Marks-A-Lot. But this couldn’t belong to Hutton. Kindergarteners didn’t stay for lunch. Not only that, but the little girl hadn’t even been carrying a lunch box that morning.

That’s when she noticed the folded note, written on a sheet of ruled, primary tablet paper in block letters that read:

Whether or not you choose to have children of your own, the town trusts you with theirs, trusts you with its future. The kids are the future. That’s a fact. Teach them right, fill their lives with fairness instead of bitterness and anger. Make them thirst for knowledge. Don’t let them take anything for granted. For life is precious and too short. Like other parents today, I’m trusting you with my child, my school, and my town so don’t let me down.