by Mia Ross
“You should’ve seen Mavis getting Reggie into his Teddy Roosevelt outfit after breakfast this morning. The little oinker was eating up all that attention, even posing for pictures. I think she’s right—he likes pretending to be someone else.”
“Yeah, he’s a ham.”
Giggling, she shook a scolding finger at him. “That was so not funny.”
Cooper managed to keep a straight face, but it was tough. “What?”
“No meat jokes about Reggie. It’s not nice.”
Cooper laughed, and she smacked his shoulder before turning her attention back to the parade. The school band marched past, playing a medley of patriotic songs and wearing their new uniforms. Made of wool, they were meant for football season rather than summer performances, but the musicians had voted to wear them anyway, to thank the town for donating the considerable funds to purchase them. He wondered if the kids were second-guessing themselves now.
A group of Revolutionary War reenactors marched past, mostly in step with the rim shots on the antique drum. The breeze swirled through the first American flag ever flown over Holiday Harbor, lovingly preserved and brought out for special occasions. When the fife player began “Stars and Stripes Forever,” everyone along the parade route cheered and waved their own flags.
“This is so cool,” Bree said, snapping frame after frame. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a parade.”
Her comment struck him as odd, since he attended them all year long. Then again, when you didn’t settle in one place for any length of time, you missed out on things other folks took for granted.
Not wanting her to overlook anything, he tapped the top of her camera with his finger. “You miss a lot staring at the screen.”
“Like what?”
He pointed farther down the route where David Birdsall and half a dozen others in period costumes were approaching on their high-wheel bikes. When she spun around to line up a shot, Cooper gave her a chiding look.
“One more, I promise. Then I’ll watch.” She kept her word, and after a few minutes, she patted his shoulder to get his attention. When he looked down, she gave him a grateful smile.
“You’re right. This is much better.” To his surprise, she hugged his arm and added, “I want to thank you for all your help the past few days. It must have been a pain entertaining me and answering so many questions, but you were really great.”
“It was my pleasure. You’re a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Thanks.” This smile had a tinge of regret in it, and she quickly looked away. With her gaze fixed on the 4-H horseback group, she sighed. “I can’t believe it, but I’ve really started to like this place.”
She seemed so wistful, he almost suggested that she stay awhile longer. But she’d been pretty clear about how important it was for her to go, and he decided it was best not to bring it up. If she wanted to spend more time here, he’d made it plain she was welcome, not only by the town but by him personally. Much as he’d enjoy getting to know her better, he’d learned long ago that trying to change a woman’s mind about anything was a waste of time and energy.
“Cooper!”
When he heard his mother calling him, he found a red, white and blue parasol bobbing through the crowd toward where he stood with Bree. Embellished with bunting and shiny fireworks streamers, the souvenir from a friend’s wedding was her “going to the parade” umbrella. The fact that it was the perfect accessory for her handmade Betsy Ross outfit was just a bonus.
Sammy suddenly rose to his feet, pointing like a hunting dog toward something Cooper couldn’t see yet. When he noticed what had gotten the Newfie’s attention, he groaned.
“Uh-oh,” he muttered when he saw Mitzy tucked under Mom’s arm. “Dog alert.”
“That’s not a dog,” Bree murmured back. “It’s a dust bunny with legs.”
“That’s Mitzy,” he explained quietly. “I got her for Mom one Christmas so she’d have some company when I was living in New York. Now that I’m back, the little brat hates me.”
Eyes twinkling with humor, Bree smirked. “A rival for your mother’s attention. Isn’t that cute?”
“Sure, till she takes a chunk out of your ankle.” As a precaution, he wrapped Sammy’s sturdy leash around his hand one more time and patted the dog’s head. “I know she looks like lunch, but if you try to eat her, you’re toast.”
The Newfie gave him the most disdainful look he’d ever gotten in his life, and Bree laughed. “I think he’s telling you he wouldn’t bother with anything that small.”
“Let’s hope so. Hey, Mom.” Greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, he motioned to Bree. “I’d like you to meet Bree Farrell. Bree, this is my mother, Amelia Landry.”
“Amelia Earhart Landry,” she corrected him as she shook the reporter’s hand. “The lady was a close friend of my grandfather’s.”
“Is that so?” Bree egged her on with a smile. “How did he know her?”
“Very well.”
She added an unmistakable wink, and Bree’s smile deepened to show some rare dimples. “I’d love to hear more about that. Will you be at Cooper’s barbecue later?”
“Of course. If I’m not there, all he serves is meat and crackers. No salads, no desserts, you know how men are.”
“Definitely.” Bree slanted a look up at him, eyes twinkling with delight at his mother’s ribbing.
Cooper did his best to appear unconcerned, but Mom was giving his new buddy The Eye. “This must be the notorious Sammy.”
Taking his cue, the Newfie offered her one of his enormous paws. Clearly impressed, she gave it a gentle shake. “Good boy.”
He batted his tail on the ground, and Mitzy yapped her opinion of him. The whole thing was so ridiculous, Cooper had to laugh. “I think they like each other.”
Mom patted the dog’s shaggy head, then looked over at Bree. “I heard you were at Sandy Cove that day, too. Exciting, wasn’t it?”
“Very. He’s a fabulous dog, and really smart. I think he and Cooper belong together.”
To Cooper’s ears, her response came across as pretty personal, and curiosity sparked in his mother’s blue eyes. She didn’t say anything, but he knew she’d been keeping tabs on him through the gossip mill. She must know he’d been spending a lot of time with their guest, and he could imagine her reading all kinds of things into that statement.
“Bree’s article is coming right along,” he said to shift the conversation back on track. “She’s going to help us put Holiday Harbor on the map.”
“Actually we’ve already started. I did a quick piece about Sammy, and Nick put it online at midnight. We’ve had a hundred thousand reads already, which is unheard of for a holiday.”
This was news to him, and Cooper stared in disbelief. “A hundred thousand? That’s incredible.”
“Wonderful,” Amelia agreed, patting Bree’s arm with a white glove. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It’s the lead-in to tomorrow’s main story,” she explained to Cooper, “which I’m hoping to email from your office in the morning. The lighthouse wireless comes and goes, and I want to make sure it gets through.”
“It’s done?”
“Mostly. I want to add some details about the actual Fourth celebration, but I’ll finish that tonight, so it’ll be ready to go first thing tomorrow.”
And then, Cooper thought with a sinking heart, so would she. Shoving the thought aside, he asked, “Anyone for caramel apples?”
“No, but the smell of that popcorn is making me ravenous.” Collapsing her parasol, his mother hooked it over the waistband of her apron and put her free arm around Bree’s shoulders. “I’m sure Cooper’s bored you to death with stories about settlers and sea captains. Come with me, and I’ll fill you in on the more juicy Landry family history.”
“Most of which you can’t prove,” Cooper reminded her as they strolled ahead of him.
Bree tossed a mischievous grin back at him, and he laughed at the picture they made. The no-nonsense reporter dressed for work, and his lovably eccentric mother who took any opportunity to play dress-up. What a pair.
For town events the Business Development Committee paid the vendors for their supplies, so everything was free for the people milling around the square. Cooper was glad to see a wide variety of food stands alternating with games and local history displays.
Mavis stood beside the lighthouse presentation, answering questions for a family he didn’t recognize. Looking around, he noticed others, and he nodded to himself in satisfaction. Seeing them here reinforced his belief that what Holiday Harbor needed was publicity. Once tourists found them, the town would sell itself.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
* * *
When Cooper invited her to help him sail Stargazer back to his place later that afternoon, Bree jumped at the opportunity. The race had been so much fun, she was eager for more time on the water. As they approached his dock, she sighed. “Another gorgeous day. Do you order them up just for the tourists, Mr. Mayor?”
“Absolutely,” he replied with a chuckle. “We don’t allow any rain till after Labor Day.”
“I’ve seen this side of the bay from the lighthouse, but I didn’t notice any houses. Do you live up in the trees or something?”
“Kind of. I like it quiet, and I’ve always loved this place. It was Granddad’s, and we had some great times here. He knew that, so he left it to me.”
As the trees gave way to a wide clearing, she couldn’t believe the view. “Wow.”
“I thought you were a city girl.”
“I am, but this is really pretty. Like one of those screen savers people use to make them feel like they’ve gotten away from the office for a little while.”
A small log house sat at the end of a weathered dock, which gave the place a rustic, lived-in look. A far cry from the family’s Victorian homestead on Main Street, the waterfront cabin with its wraparound deck seemed to be much more Cooper’s style.
Spotlights spaced under the eaves glowed dimly, giving the place an inviting appearance. She assumed they’d brighten as the sun went down, which was much better than coming home to a dark house.
While Cooper unlocked the front door and motioned her inside, she asked, “Aren’t you going to get Sammy?”
Cooper glanced out to where the dog, who still stood in the boat, was doing a fair impression of a ship’s figurehead. One happily wagging its tail. “I think if he was going to run off, he’d have done it by now. He looks like he’s having fun out there, so we’ll leave him be. He’ll come in when he’s ready.”
“O-kay.”
Dragging the word out in a doubtful tone, she cast a worried look over her shoulder before going inside. Just inside the door, what she saw stopped her in her tracks.
These weren’t your typical lawyer’s digs.
She’d known a few, and none of them would be caught dead living in a place like this. Rustic but neat as a pin, the cabin looked like a photo shoot for Field and Stream. The overstuffed leather furniture had that lived-in look that made you want to curl up in front of the fire and read one of the leather-bound books from the shelves built around the stone fireplace. The hefty mantel looked like it had been hacked from an old tree by hand, and the openmouthed fish hanging in the place of honor was big enough to serve a family of four.
Everything appeared to have been here forever, and like the office, she assumed Cooper had left it just the way it was out of fondness for his grandfather. Bree didn’t have good memories of any one place in particular, and she felt a twinge of envy for Cooper’s strong connection to his past.
Family pictures were clustered along the mantel, and she picked a young Cooper out of several. On a shelf nearby she noticed trophies for everything from soccer to debating, and one in particular made her turn and stare at him. “You were a football player?”
“Quarterback,” he replied as he flipped on some lights.
“A pretty good one,” she added, trying to get him to brag a little. “Most guys don’t have hardware like that next to their collection of Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe.”
“I guess not. Tamerlane and Other Poems is a first edition, if you’re interested.”
Stunned, she firmly clasped her hands together to keep them from reaching out to grab it. “You’re kidding.”
“Have a look.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
He laughed at that. “This is a cabin, not a museum, so go ahead. I’ve read it lots of times.”
The man loved old books, she marveled as she slid the precious volume from its spot. It only made him more appealing, if that was possible. While she flipped through the heavy parchment pages, she heard cooking-type sounds from around the corner of the staircase that angled its way upstairs. Strolling in, she was surprised by what she found.
Tucked in alongside the original knotty pine cabinets were high-end stainless-steel appliances that would have made a gourmet chef drool with envy. They seemed to be the only change Cooper had made to the cabin, and they stood out like a rocket ship at a hoedown.
“You like to cook?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah,” he replied without blinking. “I had my fill of restaurants in New York.”
“Huh.”
He chuckled. “I take it you’re not fond of kitchens.”
“My culinary expertise begins and ends with the microwave.” She set the treasure of a book on an upper shelf where it would be safe. “Anyone who can cook amazes me.”
“Anyone who can write the way you do amazes me.”
He added an admiring smile that would have melted the heart of any woman other than her. She’d never lost her head over a guy, and she wasn’t about to start now. Still it was a good thing she was devoting all her energy to resuscitating her career, or fending off this one’s charms would have been a real challenge.
Eager to move things away from the dangerous personal arena, she examined the back end of his cozy bachelor pad. Another set of wide plank steps led upstairs, and hand-painted waterscapes of the area hung everywhere. But the stunner was the wall of French doors that looked on to the back deck and beyond that, the ocean. If you opened all of them, you could probably hear the waves crashing on the rocks out at the point.
She stood there, drinking in the view, trying to come up with words to adequately describe it. Even with her considerable vocabulary, she couldn’t come up with anything better than, “Awesome.”
From behind her, Cooper agreed, “Yeah, I like it.”
Serene but always in motion, it was the kind of scene that would change from day to day, and season to season. “It must be gorgeous in the fall.”
“Now that you know how to get here, you should come back and see for yourself.”
Was that a request for a return visit? she wondered. Or was he just making conversation? Apparently Sammy had spotted them at the doors and loped over to join them. Cooper let him in, then filled a large bowl with water. “Here you go, big guy. Lunch was a long time ago, so you must be hungry.”
After setting a plate of cheese and crackers on the counter, Cooper rummaged around in the fridge and came up with some leftover meatloaf. Sliding it into the microwave, he chuckled at the dog. “Just don’t tell Mom you ate it instead of me. She’d be crushed.”
Bree adored the way he talked to the Newfie, and judging by his endlessly wagging tail, Sammy liked it, too. When the timer dinged, he barked eagerly, making her laugh. “I guess he likes meatloaf.”
Cooper set the food on the floor, running his hand through the dog’s thick fur. “We’re a pair, aren’t we, boy?”
“You really like him, don’t you?” she asked, offering him one of the cheese and cracker sandwiches she’d built.
Taking it, he popped it in his mouth. “What’s not to like?”
They chatted about their day while Sammy inhaled his dinner. When there was nothing left on the plate except the checked pattern, he took up his post by one of the French doors, staring longingly outside. Cooper opened the door, and Sammy loped past them and down the dock.
Out on the generous deck, Bree saw Adirondack chairs circled around a sunken fire pit, and a top-of-the-line stainless-steel grill ready for tonight’s barbecue. Beneath a wide overhang, a wooden table and chairs were grouped into an outdoor dining room, just waiting for company.
“There he goes,” he commented, nodding toward Sammy. Perched on the edge of the dock, the dog studied the water for a few seconds, then dove in. Between the doggy-paddling and slurping, he was kicking up a lot of water, and Cooper laughed. “What a great dog.”
“You spent a small fortune getting him groomed,” Bree pointed out as she sat in one of the comfy chairs. “Aren’t you mad?”
“He’s a water dog. Expecting him to stay out of the water would be like expecting you to sit there quietly and not ask me a bunch of questions.”
Bree’s hackles started to rise. “It’s my job to ask people questions.”
“Constantly?”
“I ask as many as it takes to get the whole story,” she informed him stiffly, echoing her father’s mantra. “And then some.”
“That’s the part they hate most, I’d imagine.”
“Lawyers interrogate witnesses all the time. People don’t like that much, either.”
Sitting crosswise on the chair next to hers, he rested his arms on his knees in a casual pose. “You really like to argue, don’t you?”
The twinkle in his eyes told her he was enjoying their little battle, and she went along just for fun. “Well, I don’t have a debating trophy or anything...”
When he laughed, she joined him, and the last of her irritation drifted off on the breeze. “Guilty on both counts, I’m afraid. Argumentative and nosy.”
