Cottage by the Sea

by Debbie Macomber

  “I think his arm is broken,” Britt answered for him. Tears filled her eyes, which she tried to hide by blinking several times. “We don’t have insurance, so I’ll need to make payments for Logan’s care.”

  “You?” Annie asked. “What about his parents?”

  Logan shared an anxious look with his sister. “They…They needed me to bring Logan in today.”

  Reading between the lines, Annie had to assume both of his parents were at work, although Candi seemed to think Britt’s stepfather was unemployed. “We won’t worry about that right now,” Annie said reassuringly. Her job was to help Logan.

  Britt’s shoulders stiffened. “You might not worry about it, but I do. I need to know if the clinic will take installments.”

  “Of course we will, Britt. What’s important is making sure Logan isn’t in any more pain than necessary.”

  “I know…He couldn’t sleep last night. His arm hurt too much, and he won’t let me touch it. I…I didn’t know what to do. Every time he tries to move it, he screams in pain. Mom didn’t know what to do. She cleans for Mr. Johnson from the bank and she doesn’t dare miss because Mrs. Johnson is real picky and…” She shook her head and continued. “It isn’t important. I said I knew you and you’d help Logan, so she said I should bring him to the clinic. She wanted to check if she could pay for his care in installments, though.”

  “You know I’ll do whatever I can.” Annie eased her stool closer. “Logan,” she said softly, “will you look at me?”

  Slowly, the boy lifted his head away from his sister’s side and peeked out enough to look at Annie. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose and brown eyes, dull now with pain. He needed a haircut, and a mop of hair fell over his left eye.

  Smiling to make him feel comfortable, she asked, “Can you show me where it hurts?”

  “My whole arm hurts.” His pulled it closer against his body, afraid she was going to reach for it.

  “What happened?”

  Logan looked to his sister, unsure of what to say.

  “He fell,” Britt blurted out. “Off his bike. He took a bad spill.” Her words were jerky, almost rehearsed.

  It was clear to Annie that she was not telling the truth. After seeing Britt’s bruises, and learning what she had about Britt’s stepfather, Annie had her suspicions. But mentioning those suspicions might be all the excuse Britt needed to bolt and run. Annie was determined not to make that happen.

  “That must have hurt a lot,” Annie said, looking to Logan, hoping to get a read from him. He leaned back against his sister, and she protectively tightened her arm around him.

  “Did it hurt when you fell?” Annie pressed Logan. She noticed he didn’t have any scrapes or bruises to indicate he’d taken a tumble off his bicycle.

  He nodded. “It hurt bad. Really bad.”

  “Did the pain come right away?”

  Once more he looked to Britt, who nodded.

  “He said it did,” Britt answered for him.

  “Who was there to help him?” she asked, pressing for more information.

  “Dad,” Logan said. “Mom was working.”

  “His arm is swollen, too,” Britt added. “That’s why we think it might be broken. He’s been in a lot of pain.”

  Annie had already noticed the swelling.

  “Would you let me take a picture of your arm, Logan?” she asked.

  “An x-ray?” he asked.

  Britt smiled. “I already told him that was what you’d need to do.”

  “Yes, an x-ray,” Annie said. “But I’m going to need you to let Julia, the nurse, touch your arm so she can take the x-ray. Will you do that for me?”

  Again, Logan looked at his sister, who silently encouraged him. “I think I can, if you let Britt stay with me.”

  “I promise, Julia will be as gentle as can be. You tell her if it hurts too much.”

  “Okay.”

  Annie gave instructions to the nurse, who led Logan and Britt into the x-ray room.

  It wasn’t long before Annie had the results. When she returned to the room, she had the film with her.

  “Is his arm broken?” Britt asked anxiously.

  “Yes, it’s broken, all right; thankfully, it’s only a hairline fracture.” She clipped the x-ray to the lighted board and pointed out the spindly line.

  “That little line makes it hurt so bad?” Logan asked, aghast.

  “Bone pain is the worst,” Annie explained. “Looks like you’re going to need a cast. That’s cool, isn’t it? You can have all your friends write their names on it. What color cast would you like?”

  “Red,” he said automatically.

  “Then red it is.”

  After Annie finished casting Logan’s arm, she asked Candi to look after Logan while she spoke privately to Britt.

  “Sure thing,” Candi said.

  Bringing the teenager into her office, Annie closed the door and had Britt take a seat.

  “Is something wrong?” Britt asked, glancing nervously around the room. “If it’s about the money—”

  “It isn’t,” Annie said, interrupting her. “I want to know what really happened to your brother.”

  Her shoulders tightened. “I already told you, he fell.”

  “Tell me again.”

  Britt squirmed in the chair and broke eye contact. “He fell off his bike. He took a corner too fast and lost control. If you don’t believe me, ask Logan. He’ll tell you the same thing.” She scooted back the chair. “I should be going. I have classes this afternoon, and I need to be there so I can graduate.”

  “Britt, please, anything you tell me—”

  “I’m sorry,” Britt said, rushing to her feet. “But I really need to leave. Thank you for taking care of Logan. I knew you would. I told Mom we could trust you. She didn’t know what to do. Nothing like this has happened before, and—”

  “Britt, I can help.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “You can’t…no one can. I need to go.”

  Before Annie could stop her, Britt had the door open and was gone.

  Because she’d frightened the teenager away, Annie mulled over their conversation. It was abundantly clear that Britt was afraid to tell her the truth. Annie suspected that the stepfather was responsible for Logan’s injury. But unless Britt admitted to what had happened, Annie had no proof.

  She waited until it was time for a lunch break to talk to Candi. The receptionist was familiar with the community and could advise her.

  “Something on your mind?” Candi asked, as they sat down together in the breakroom. “You’ve been quiet all morning.”

  “It’s Logan Hoffert.”

  “Ah yes, Logan. I wonder if you were thinking what I’m thinking.”

  “And what’s that?” Annie asked.

  “That fracture of his. I doubt it came from a fall off his bike.”

  Annie mulled over the fact that she wasn’t alone in her suspicions. “I don’t think that’s what happened, either.”

  Candi reached for her turkey sandwich but didn’t take a bite. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

  “Not really.” It wasn’t an easy decision. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, report the incident, and then discover she’d been entirely wrong. Having the community’s faith was important. One wrong accusation could ruin her chances of gaining the trustworthiness she would need to make Oceanside her home. But at the same time, she had a responsibility to report any suspected abuse.

  “Are you going to contact Child Protective Services?” Candi asked.

  That was the correct protocol, but Annie only had her suspicions. “I don’t know. I don’t want to make matters worse for Britt, either.” She reached for her own sandwich, but like Candi, she seemed to have lost her appetite. “What do you know a
bout the mom?”

  “Teresa? Not much. She mostly keeps to herself. Don’t think she has any friends. Far as I know, she works every housecleaning job she can get. Between her and Britt, they hold that family together.”

  “From what I understand, Britt isn’t Carl’s daughter?”

  “No. Teresa was a single mom. She got pregnant in high school and raised Britt on her own until she met Carl. They seemed happy when Carl had steady work at the lumber mill. Then he was laid off for being drunk on the job. A short while later the mill closed completely. Far as I know, Carl hasn’t had steady employment since.”

  “What does Carl do with himself if he isn’t working?”

  “Nothing that I know of. I’ve seen him in town a few times, hanging out in a tavern with his drinking buddies.”

  Annie was afraid of that.

  “I think it might be best if you have Child Protective Services check out the home situation.”

  Annie was considering doing exactly that; however, she wanted to think it over to be sure she would be helping the situation more than hurting the family and her own standing in the community. The best person to ask would be Dr. Bainbridge. If Logan had his arm broken at the hands of an abusive father, then something needed to be done. It was clear to Annie that Britt was afraid to tell her the truth.

  “Give it some thought,” Candi advised her.

  * * *

  —

  At the end of the day, Annie conferred with Dr. Bainbridge, who agreed that she needed to contact the authorities and ask that the state do an investigation. With her stomach in knots, she sat at her desk for several minutes before she reached for the phone and made the call to the state hotline. The woman on the other end took down the pertinent details, asking questions as Annie relayed her concerns.

  “Unfortunately, we’re short-staffed and nearly everyone is pulling double shifts to keep current.”

  “But you will investigate?” Annie pressed, her heart pounding.

  “Yes, but it could take up to forty-eight hours. We appreciate your concern. I promise we’ll send someone out as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you,” Annie said, sensing that the social worker was already stretched to her limit. She knew there had been budget cuts in Washington state and that social services had been hit hard by the cutbacks.

  As she walked home, Annie’s thoughts repeatedly wandered to Britt and Logan. To distract herself, she decided to spend time in her garden. Her mother had always claimed that it calmed her, and Annie was hoping for the same results. Although she’d spent most of the weekend working in the yard, a lot remained that needed to be done. Before she could plant the seedlings she’d purchased, she would need to spread the fertilizer. Annie thought how lucky she was to live along the coast where she could begin planting so early without a fear of frost.

  Once home, she changed clothes and went outside, unwilling to waste a sunny afternoon indoors. After spreading the fertilizer, she carted the tomato and jalapeño plants to the tilled ground, grateful again for Keaton’s help.

  Keaton.

  She found that he was on her mind a lot lately. Not since her college days had any man affected her the way he did. She was drawn to his intensity, his brute strength, and his honesty. One thing was certain: She’d never met anyone like him. Saturday afternoon was the last time she’d seen Keaton, and she found she missed him. She couldn’t talk to him about Britt and Logan because of the privacy laws, but she could mention the incident without names and get his opinion.

  Getting down on her knees in the freshly tilled earth, Annie prepared the land and buried the seedlings in the rich soil before tenderly dribbling water over the infant plants. When she glanced up, she noticed Mellie Johnson intently watching her from the kitchen window in the big house.

  Annie stood, brushed the dirt from her knees, and removed her garden gloves before waving. Not surprisingly, Mellie abruptly turned away from the window. The woman’s attention proved that Mellie wasn’t as disinterested as she wanted Annie to believe.

  To her surprise, Annie’s phone rang. When she tugged it out of her jeans, she was taken aback to see that the call came from her landlord.

  “Hello,” Annie answered skeptically, uncertain what to expect.

  “What are you planting out there?”

  Annie told her. “Is there anything you’d like me to plant?”

  “No.”

  “I have plenty of space if you had something in mind.”

  “Grams grew green beans. She used to make me snap them for her. Peas, too.”

  “I can do that.” Annie was delighted at Mellie’s request and was eager to comply. This was exactly the opening she’d been looking for.

  “I’m not asking you to plant anything, understand?”

  Guess Mellie was too prideful to ask for anything.

  “If you grow green beans, you’re going to need poles,” Mellie said.

  “I can get them at the nursery. I saw some there on Saturday and—”

  “Keaton can make them,” Mellie said, cutting her off. “Doubt there’s much he can’t do. Preston, either.”

  “Preston?” Annie couldn’t remember anyone named Preston.

  “A friend.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No,” she snapped. “Like I said, Keaton can make what you need to grow those beans.”

  “I won’t ask him to do that for me,” Annie countered. Keaton had been more than generous with her already, even if she would welcome an excuse to contact him.

  “Fine, then I will.”

  Annie could see arguing would do her little good.

  “He’s good at that sort of thing. Besides, he likes you. Don’t understand it myself, but then I’m not good at relationships.”

  “I’d like to be friends with you, if you’d let me,” Annie said.

  “I don’t need friends.”

  “What about Keaton?” Annie asked. “Isn’t he your friend? And Preston, too?” If Mellie mentioned him, then he must have some connection to her.

  It took her a few stilted moments before she was ready to answer. “I suppose you could call them friends.”

  “Perhaps I could come for tea one day at the house. I loved your grandparents; they were wonderful to my brother and me.”

  “They were good people,” Mellie agreed. “I’ll invite you when I’m ready. Should be sometime before the next century, so don’t sit at your phone waiting for me to call.”

  “If you say so,” Annie said, holding back a smile.

  “I’m serious. Don’t hold your breath.”

  Annie laughed. One step forward and two steps back was how it seemed to go with Mellie.

  CHAPTER 13

  Keaton had never learned what had upset Annie the day he found her weeping on the beach, sitting and looking lost and staring soulfully at the ocean. If he was a betting man, he’d lay odds it had to do with a broken relationship. Her heart had been broken. The depth and intensity of his feelings for her rattled him to the point that he’d avoided her as much as he could. Keeping away hadn’t helped. If anything, it made him want to see her even more.

  Because he kept his own hours and worked on his own schedule, he’d been able to stop by the cottage and Mellie’s property. He spent an hour or longer every day that week pulling out the wild blackberry vines, purposefully choosing times when he knew Annie would be at the clinic. Battling the thicket helped ease the internal battle waging within. Until Annie, Keaton had been comfortable being by himself and with who he was. Now he discovered he wanted to be more for her. What he couldn’t figure out was how he could be more of anything.

  Mellie knew Keaton was coming to the property on a regular basis, and why. The woman couldn’t leave well enough alone and had taken to constantly pestering him with calls. She quizzed him with questi
ons about Annie that he didn’t want to answer. She repeatedly warned him to guard his heart. Her concerns weren’t necessary. Keaton already knew that he was treading water where Annie was concerned. On more than one occasion he’d been tempted to ask Mellie about her non-relationship with Preston. That would hurt his friend far more than it would silence her, and so he did what he always did and said nothing.

  Irritated with Mellie and with himself, Keaton quit answering his phone. He refused to let her pessimism sway him. If what she had to tell him was that important, then she could come outside and say it to his face. Like that would ever happen!

  The last time they spoke, Mellie declared that Keaton was a fool for giving his heart away to Annie Marlow. She was convinced Annie would leave him high and dry. Keaton didn’t need her telling him what he already knew. At the end of her contracted year, Annie would pull up stakes and move. No one stayed in Oceanside who hadn’t been born and raised in the area. The population had always been transient. Folks came and went with a regularity that was as changing as the timing of the tides.

  With his head full of thoughts of Annie, Keaton tugged on a twisted, thorny vine. If he never saw another blackberry vine again, he’d die a happy man. There wasn’t anyone in the world he would do this for other than Annie. He was determined to find those raspberry and blueberry bushes for her. He couldn’t bear the thought of her dealing with these barbed vines. Even with gloves, the thorns had a way of poking through the fabric and piercing his hands. If the fruit bushes had survived the last five years, it would be miraculous.

  When he finished for the day, he decided it was time to confront Mellie and check on John-Boy. The Labrador’s physical wounds were almost completely healed now, thanks to Mellie’s and Preston’s care. Emotional wounds were a different story. The poor dog cringed at every loud noise and trembled uncontrollably whenever anyone came close. Mellie had worked hours with him, earning his trust, and John-Boy had come to accept her. Not so with Keaton, even though he’d been the one to rescue him. Keaton suspected John-Boy would react the same to any man after the treatment he’d received from his previous owner.