Vicki's Gift: Rose Island Book 4

by Kristin Noel Fischer

“Your property is on the water?”

  “It is. You should come out and see it for yourself.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m headed out there right now. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. Why not? Have you had dinner? I was planning on making a quiche, but we can grab something else if you want.”

  “You know how to make quiche?”

  I laughed. “Don’t be too impressed. It’s one of the few things I can cook.”

  She studied me carefully. “I do love a good quiche.”

  “Mine’s extra good because of my grandmother’s sofrito.”

  “Sofrito?”

  “It’s a base used in most Puerto Rican dishes. It’s got peppers, onions, garlic, cilantro, and olive oil.”

  “That sounds really good. I forgot your grandmother is originally from Puerto Rico. Marcus used to make us jealous by talking about her cooking whenever he came home from your place.”

  “So, you’ll come to dinner and try my sofrito quiche?” Trying to appear casual by ignoring the fireworks going off in my head, I allowed myself a slight smile.

  She smiled back. “Can you give me a few minutes to feed the dogs?”

  “Definitely.” I folded my arms across my chest as if I didn’t care one way or the other.

  Inside I was thinking, Baby, as long as you’re coming with me, you can take all the time you need. Feed the dogs, feed the cat, feed the fish. I’ll wait for you forever.

  Chapter 5

  Vicki

  Driving out to Seth’s property was not something I envisioned happening that day. Usually after leaving the bakery, I slept a few hours before exercising, taking a shower, and eating dinner with my parents. Seth was completely throwing off my schedule. I had no idea why I agreed to go with him.

  “Do you want to listen to some music?” Seth took a right onto Seaside Boulevard and gestured toward the glove compartment. “I’ve got some CDs in there.”

  “Sure.” I opened the glove compartment and leafed through his music, which was all country. “Keith Urban, Toby Keith, Tim McGraw, and Alan Jackson. Great taste. I love country music.”

  “Me too, obviously.”

  “Mrs. Delacroix only plays Italian opera, which is beautiful, but I have no idea what they’re saying.”

  “Does she speak Italian?”

  “I don’t know if she speaks it, but she can definitely sing it.” I opened the Toby Keith album and put it in the CD player. As the music blasted through the speaker, I tapped my foot to the beat. Glancing out the window, I noted the fields of butterfly weed, coreopsis, and bee balm. The island was always beautiful, but the spring wildflowers held a special charm I’d always loved.

  As we sped past the West End Yacht Club, something occurred to me. “I should’ve driven my own car so you wouldn’t have to bring me all the way back home after dinner.”

  “Oh. It’s no problem. I don’t mind. Besides, once the paved road ends, you have to take this beat-up dirt road. I don’t want you to have to drive down it. It’s kind of hard to navigate when it’s dark.”

  “Okay.” I picked up the stack of paperback novels sitting on the floor of the truck. A passion for reading was something I shared with Seth. Throughout the years, he’d borrowed several books from the large bookshelf in my father’s study. Like my dad and me, Seth read widely—fiction, nonfiction, fantasy, historical, science fiction, and romance. Well, I didn’t know if Seth read romance, but I definitely did, and my father was a huge Karen Kingsbury fan.

  I sifted through Seth’s books. This stack consisted mostly of fictitious accounts of trolls, elves, and giants fighting great battles. There were also several nonfiction books, including one about parenting teenagers.

  I held up the parenting book, and he turned down the music. “I thought it might give me some insight. Abuela tries, but Robbie is strong-willed. He’s going to be a teenager on his next birthday, and I want to be able to help as he gets older.”

  I set the books back on the floor. “You said he had a hard time with you going away for college?”

  “Yeah. He completely freaked out. I’ve never seen him upset like that. My grandma said he’d get used to me being gone and I should just go, but I think she was relieved when I decided to stay on the island.”

  I nodded, wondering if Seth himself was also relieved. The outside world could be tough. Rose Island offered a comfort not found elsewhere.

  “Anyway,” Seth said, interrupting my thoughts, “staying here has worked out for the best. I’ve always wanted to run my own business, and so far, it’s been a blast. I think it’s been good for Robbie too.”

  “He doesn’t mind that you don’t live with him anymore?”

  “No. I see him several nights a week for dinner, and he spends the night with me most weekends.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Glancing out the window, I took in the west end homes, resplendent with lush landscaping, pools, and tennis courts. This was the rich section of the island. In fact, most of these mansions were second or third homes for the wealthy.

  When the last house faded from view, the paved road ended, and we began traveling down the rough dirt road. Seth slowed his speed, but the truck hit bump after bump, bouncing me, King, and the books into the air.

  “Sorry.” He pressed on the brake to slow down.

  I laughed and tightened my grip on King. “It’s okay. You did warn me.”

  A slight smile tugged at his lips. “True. I’ll drive slower. Eventually, the city will pave this road, but it’s really bad right now.”

  “Do you really think the city will pave the road? I mean, there’s nothing out here.”

  He thrust a hand to his heart as if I’d offended him. “Camp Paintball is out here.”

  “Camp Paintball?”

  He smiled. “It’s one of the names we’re thinking about for the business.”

  “Hmm. What other names do you have in mind?”

  “Just that one. Do you not like it?”

  “I like it. In fact, I like it a lot.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Okay. Camp Paintball it is.”

  After driving over a rickety but absolutely charming bridge that Seth assured me was safe, he pointed to an old barbed iron fence. “This is the beginning of our property. I know it doesn’t look like much now, but when the business opens this summer, it will be amazing. I just got a load of five hundred used tires and thirty spools.”

  I glanced at him, wondering if he was joking. “Used tires and spools?”

  He nodded enthusiastically and turned onto the property. “I’m going to incorporate them into the junkyard course. There were already several broken-down cars on the property, so now I’ll be able to finish building the rest of the course.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” I searched for the right word. Lovely, interesting, horrifying? What kind of man spent his money on old tires and spools?

  As we drove farther onto the property, Seth pointed to several evergreen saplings planted in five-gallon buckets. “The county extension office gave me those for free. A grad student from A&M is doing research on the types of trees that grow well near salt water. I thought I’d plant them on either side of the driveway to create a grand entrance.”

  “That’ll look nice.”

  “I hope so.” Seth continued down the road until we came to a meadow of wildflowers. Stopping the truck, he pointed out the window. “Look.”

  I followed his gaze to see a mother deer with three fawns. Despite the prevalence of deer on the island, seeing triplets was rare. “That’s beautiful.”

  “It is.”

  Sitting up in order to see out the window, King pricked his ears forward and whined softly. Seth rubbed the dog’s head. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just a mama and her babies.”

  Sensin
g danger, the mother deer eyed us suspiciously. In an instant, she sprang into action, leading her fawns to safety by running across the road, right in front of us. Had Seth not had his foot on the brake, we could’ve easily hit them.

  “Why do they do that?” I said, watching them glide through the meadow, their white tails held high. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go the opposite way? Away from us?”

  “It would.” Seth chuckled. “Did you know that deer are one of the most dangerous animals in the United States because of all the car accidents they cause?”

  “I believe it. For some reason, they have this compulsion to jump right into traffic. You have to be careful, especially on Seaside Boulevard.”

  “I know.” Seth eased the truck forward. “When I was a little kid, I didn’t understand why they couldn’t move the deer crossing sign to someplace less busy. I seriously thought the deer crossed at that part of Seaside Boulevard because of the sign.”

  I laughed. “And when was this? Last year?”

  “Ha, ha.”

  We continued down the road until the water came back into view. Sitting several yards from the shore was the cutest Airstream trailer. “Is that yours?”

  “It is.”

  “Oh my goodness. It’s adorable.”

  Seth smiled. “Thanks.”

  I took it all in, the newly painted blue door of the trailer, the ocean in the background, the native grasses and wildflowers flowing in the breeze, and the garden lights strung from the trailer to an oak tree. After Seth’s talk of broken-down cars, used tires, and industrial spools, I’d pictured him living in less than favorable conditions. Instead, his Airstream was one of the sweetest things I’d ever seen. It looked like those campers you see on coffee mugs at the tourist shops.

  Seth was full of surprises, wasn’t he?

  Chapter 6

  Seth

  As soon as I stepped out of the truck, King pushed past me, excited to be home. He charged toward a flock of birds mingling near the trailer. The birds flew into the air as my mighty warrior dog barked.

  “King, leave those poor creatures alone.” I knew he was just acting on instinct, but I felt compelled to say something. Obedient as always, my faithful companion trotted back to me, wagging his tail. I patted his head. “I know you’re a brave guard dog and all, but give nature a chance, okay?”

  “It’s so beautiful out here,” Vicki said, looking around.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. Even though I’m going to develop some of the land for my business, I’m hoping to preserve a lot of it. My mother was a Texas Master Naturalist, and I think she’d appreciate that.”

  “A Texas Master Naturalist? What’s that?”

  “She was involved with a program that educates citizens on managing natural resources. Each year, she took advanced training courses and volunteered with various nature programs.”

  Vicki nodded. “I remember seeing her picture in the paper at the turtle preserve.”

  “She was so proud of that article and picture, especially because it helped raise awareness for the program.”

  I led Vicki into the trailer. She glanced around, admiring all the new updates to the interior, including the bamboo flooring, cabinets, and benches. “This is incredible, Seth.”

  “Thanks. We just finished the remodel last month.”

  “Are you saying you and Robbie did all this? Everything looks brand new.”

  “It’s kind of brand new. Mr. Zorn, the shop teacher at the high school, helped us. He was looking for a project, so I mentioned the Airstream, and he agreed to help.”

  Vicki lifted one of the glass jars from the spice rack and set it back down. “Everything is so beautiful. Have you thought about refurbishing trailers for a living?”

  I washed my hands in the sink and set about making the quiche. “I thought about it, but Robbie voted on the paintball business.”

  “I’m sure he did.” She opened and closed the cabinet containing plates and glasses. “Sorry, I don’t mean to snoop. This is all so fascinating.”

  “No, don’t let me stop you. I’ve got nothing to hide. Snoop away.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She smiled and continued her exploration. I turned on the radio and set it to the local country station. As Buddy Jewell sang about heaven and the Milky Way, I cracked the eggs into the bowl and mixed them with cream for the quiche.

  When Vicki stumbled upon the bookshelf, she laughed. “Oh, wow. Look at all these books.” She pulled out a copy of The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis. “I love this book.”

  “Me too.”

  She returned the book and picked up another. “You have Dean Koontz’s new book? Have you read it yet?”

  “I just finished it last night. You can borrow it if you want.”

  “I will. Thanks.” She brought the book back to the kitchen area. “Do you need some help with dinner?”

  I shook my head. “No. The kitchen is too small for more than one cook. Make yourself at home and just relax. You can read your book if you want.”

  “Okay.” She took a seat at the table as I added a few teaspoons of sofrito to the egg mixture.

  I suddenly remembered I hadn’t offered her a drink. “Do you want some iced tea or water?”

  “Iced tea would be great, but I can serve myself.” She started to push herself out of the booth, but I stopped her.

  “Stay seated. I’ll get it.” I filled a glass with ice and retrieved a can of tea from the refrigerator.

  Vicki, who hadn’t remained seated, stood inches away from me. “Thank you,” she said, taking the glass and can.

  “You’re welcome.” I returned to stirring the egg mixture, wishing I could’ve offered Vicki a lemon with the tea. She seemed like the kind of classy woman who’d appreciate a lemon slice with her iced tea. I’d have to remember to buy lemons for next time. If there was a next time.

  Vicki set her glass on the counter and popped open the iced tea. Then, she poured the tea into the glass, took a sip, and watched me work. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  I glanced down, confused. “What? Stir the eggs?”

  She giggled. “I was talking about cooking for me. You don’t have to cook for me.”

  “Oh.” Embarrassment warmed my face. “I want to cook for you. Then I want to take you on a tour of the property.”

  She nodded and fell quiet while I mixed everything together and poured it into a pre-made pie crust.

  “How’d you learn how to cook?” she asked. “I don’t think Marcus can even boil water.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me with you and your sisters. Plus, Anna and your mom are both great cooks.”

  “They are.”

  I slipped the quiche into the oven and set the alarm on my cell phone. “To answer your question, my grandmother taught me. She thought it was important I learn how to cook at least a few things.”

  “Smart woman. I saw you used three eggs and half a tablespoon of sofrito. How much cream did you add?”

  “About two cups.”

  She gave me a skeptical look. “About two cups? What exactly does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I guess a little less if you don’t have it.”

  She shook her head. “Mrs. Delacroix cooks like that. She adds a little bit of this and some of that. I can’t do that. I need to know exactly how much of each ingredient to add.”

  I smiled. “I remember you being a bit of a perfectionist when Marcus and I were building our tree fort.”

  She laughed. “I forgot about that. You guys drove me crazy. You’d cut a board, and if it didn’t fit, you’d just cut it again or use a different board.”

  “Yeah, but it turned out okay, right?”

  “It was an interesting tree house with boards going this way and that. I’ll grant you that.”

  I stuck my cell phone in my pocket. “The quiche will take about half an hour. While it cooks, let me give you the grand tou
r.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We walked outside and headed over to the junkyard course. I showed her the tires, spools, and the abandoned cars, as well as the barn where I stored the equipment.

  “Those tables are nice.” She pointed to the picnic tables set up in front of the barn.

  “I just built them. Groups will be able to gather here to take a break, eat lunch, or strategize.”

  “Strategize? Isn’t the strategy just to shoot everybody and to avoid getting shot yourself?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sensing you don’t really understand the whole concept of paintball.”

  She scoffed, pretending to be offended. “How can you say that? I spent hours watching you and Marcus shoot each other in the backyard. I’m pretty sure neither one of you had a strategy.”

  In a brazen attempt to flirt with her, I raised my brow. “You spent hours watching me?”

  A blush crept up her face. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I wanted to lean over and kiss her again, but something held me back. “What did you mean?”

  Her gaze met mine. For a moment, neither one of us moved. Then, somehow, she was in my arms and her lips were on mine. It happened so fast I had no idea who made the first move.

  Again, the sensation of touching her was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. If I had it my way, that kiss would’ve gone on forever.

  Of course, my phone buzzed just as things began heating up between us. “That’s the alarm for the quiche.”

  Vicki stared at me as her cheeks turned a pale shade of red. “Seth, I . . .”

  “Don’t say anything.”

  “I think I should.”

  “No. Please, don’t.”

  “But—”

  I put up a hand to stop her from speaking. “If you just want to tell me that I’m still in the friend zone, I don’t want to hear it. Although . . .” A huge smile spread across my face. “If that’s how you really feel, I’m okay with it.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah. I don’t mind staying in the friend zone if that’s the way you treat your friends. It totally works for me.”

  She laughed and swatted me playfully on the arm, something I took as a good sign. Back inside the trailer, we were greeted by the delicious smell of onions and cheese. I pulled the quiche out of the oven and set it on the stove.