Last Chance Harbor

by Vickie McKeehan

  She wished Ryder wasn’t stuck at the job site. But she had to give it to Silas. The man knew the ins and outs of the farm, knew how to capture the imagination of children and keep their attention for more than five minutes.

  While touring through the vegetable patch—grown specifically for “you-pick your own”—Julianne’s curious troop handpicked their own berries, tugged carrots up out of the dirt, and plucked cherry tomatoes off the vine. She could see there was a joy on their little faces in the simple harvesting, the filling up their own baskets with what they’d chosen themselves to take home.

  The group peppered her with questions. On any given day she’d come to expect queries out of the mouths of babes that could range from the silly to the profound.

  “Can we grow stuff when we get back to school?”

  “What about growing Twizzlers? They’re vines.”

  “Um, um, can I take a chicken home with me?”

  Ryder found her there surrounded by a slew of kids who all seemed to want to talk at once. They vied for her attention like tiny adoring fans. He wondered how she kept her sanity in such chaos. It was a testament to her patience and temperament.

  “How’s it going?” he asked when she finally noticed him watching her.

  “Ryder. It’s almost time to get these minions rounded up and back on the bus.”

  “I know but I wanted to see the teacher, tell her what I’d like to do to her…later.”

  She sent him a wide smile, made sure the kids weren’t within earshot. “Coming to Santa Cruz?”

  “After I get done with my work, count on it.”

  She ordered the stainless steel appliances for the kitchen and laundry room the same day she fitted the new mantel over the fireplace and put down polyurethane coating on the hardwood floors.

  The days were speeding toward the end of school and her self-imposed deadline. It seemed she couldn’t work fast enough to get it all done. Sometimes, like today, it scared her that she still had so much to do. But then she’d look over at Ryder and the look he gave her seemed to embolden her to believe she could do it.

  Every spare minute Ryder helped her complete some chore that needed doing she hadn’t considered. He’d installed new windows in each bedroom, the bathroom and kitchen. He’d even designed a new railing for the upstairs landing.

  While they spread a second coat of Seashore Teal on the living room walls, they discussed the last time either one of them had seen Scott.

  She didn’t bring up the magazine incident because she was pretty sure that Scott’s absence meant only one thing. He was angry with her. “Last time for me was during the street fair. I’d walked down to the bookstore, was headed back to the car when I saw him moving toward the lighthouse. I remember thinking that I hope he doesn’t scare Logan’s new renter. Although I do wonder why he’s been avoiding me, I realize he only sticks to Pelican Pointe, never shows up in Santa Cruz. And since I spend most of my time there... What about you?”

  “A couple of nights ago I heard him walking around the farmhouse, creeping around in the middle of the night like the restless soul he is. Strange that he hasn’t been back in the house in weeks though.”

  “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.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Moving 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.

  For Julianne, fireworks came early. Rockets exploded. Glorious bursts of red, white, and blue had her gasping out his name. Up and over, they fought through jagged wind. The wild tide beat against the rocks—that ultimate mountain high in sight. Finally the switch snapped, leaving them languid and loose.

  She ran her hands up his muscled back. “Can you believe we’re actually sleeping here tonight? It’s official. I’m a Pelican Pointe resident. No more making those trips back and forth to Santa Cruz.”

  “Not only here but taking advantage of my expert skills.” He rolled to his back, taking her with him.

  “Your expert skills are the main attraction.”

  “You don’t worry what people will think if I spend the night?”

  “Should I be? Are people that judgmental here? You’ve been here longer.”

  “No, no. They don’t come across like that. But you never know.”

  After he fell asleep, she crawled out of bed with a case of nervous energy. Instead of feeling exhausted, the first night in a strange place made it difficult for her to come down off the high from moving. She took a tour through the house, going from room to room and ended up downstairs. When that did nothing to help calm her down enough to sleep,
she grabbed a sweater to head outside. Once her bare feet hit the wood she realized how chilly it was and ran back inside to get a blanket. Wrapping it around her shoulders she went back out, took a seat on the hard steps.

  While waiting for him to show up, she decided she’d have to order a swing for the porch. It would be perfect for times like these when she wanted to enjoy the quiet time of night.

  About that time she finally caught sight of him. She’d known he was here, somewhere.

  “Do I get points for not coming in and intruding on your space this time? Or would you like to throw something at me again?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said aloud, staring at Scott standing on the lawn, just as she’d seen him that very first time, with his hands in the pockets of those khaki shorts. “I thought you were mad at me because of the magazine thing. In my defense I wasn’t fully awake. But you had no right to come in like that, expecting to see... Whatever might’ve been going on between Ryder and me at the time.”

  “I crossed a line. I apologize. I shouldn’t have done it. This is a good town… Suggesting the park… That was a…nice surprise. What made you think of it?”

  “The town needed a park. What better name than yours?”

  Scott turned to look back at the house. “You like it here?”

  “I love it. Everyone did a beautiful job on the inside. And just look at the gorgeous color scheme out here. It’s the prettiest house on the block now, although I’m sure I’m biased. May I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ryder mentioned his concern earlier. Will people talk about us, him staying here with me?”

  “People always talk.”

  “Okay, that prepares me for the gossip. I’ll just have to withstand it. Ryder’s not going anywhere—that I know of anyway.”

  “The cleansing ceremony did the trick then?”