by Kathi Daley
“Okay. That sounds great.” Georgia glanced at the clock and then picked up her bag. “I need to run.”
“And I’m going to head out for my walk with Ramos and Molly.” Ramos was Georgia’s Newfoundland, and Molly was a terrier mix I’d adopted from the local shelter this past summer. She was an older dog who’d been having a hard time finding her forever family until I’d decided to bring her home.
“Don’t book any flights while I’m gone,” Georgia called out as she exited the door.
I knew she was kidding, but I had to admit I was still tempted. I looked at my Maine Coon cat, Rufus. He was a big orange bundle of fur I simply adored. “Do you want to come along?” Rufus liked to go on walks with the dogs in the summer, but not so much in the snow.
“Meow.” He turned and trotted into my bedroom, I assumed to have a nap on my bed. Not that I blamed him. It was blustery out today.
I pulled on a heavy down jacket, a bright blue knit scarf, and matching knit gloves and headed out the door. This was my second winter in Holiday Bay, but I could swear it hadn’t been this cold last year. Or maybe it had been, and I’d just forgotten the bracing cold as a storm blew in from the sea. I loved living along the coast of Maine, but the winters were a lot different here from what I’d been used to, having lived in San Francisco for most of my life. I’d had a good life in California and don’t remember ever wanting to live anywhere else, but there was something about this little strip of coastal heaven that spoke to my heart.
I’d come here to heal after the death of my husband and son. When I’d arrived at the dilapidated old house on the bluff overlooking the sea, I’d been a shattered woman. But then I’d entered the house and realized its potential, and somehow everything got just a tiny bit better. I’d needed a project to occupy my mind and tire my body, and renovating the house with the help of my contractor, Lonnie Parker, had turned out to be just the therapy my broken soul needed.
I could still remember the first time I’d really noticed the view. I’d been checking out the cottage behind the inn and had wandered into the bedroom I now called my own. I’d opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the deck. The lush green forest covered with a layer of snow bordered the dark gray of the winter bay, producing an absolutely stunning contrast. I remember the feeling of peace that wrapped itself around me like a warm hug. I’d always found the sea to have a calming effect on my nerves even during the worst of times, and in that moment I knew that it would be here, along this gorgeous shoreline, that I’d find the courage I’d need to heal my heart and rebuild my life.
I thought back to the woman I was when I had first stood on that deck. Things had changed so much for me in the past year. There had been a few bumps along the way, but most of the changes were for the better. I’d somehow managed to repair my relationship with my sister, Annie, and the anger and resentment that had once defined us had been replaced with cautious affection. I’d made new friends and had found a way to let others into a heart that was at one point so shattered I was sure I’d never be able to love again. I had a full and busy life. I had good friends and a real future, which was saying a lot after everything I’d been through.
I turned and headed back toward the cottage. The wind was picking up, which caused the waves below me to crash onto the rocks with enough velocity to send moisture from the sea up onto the trail. I’d seen the sea when it was so calm that it appeared to have barely a ripple, and I’d seen it so angry as to appear ready to swallow anything in its path. I wasn’t sure what we could expect in terms of surge in the upcoming days, but I suspected that with the wind speeds predicted, we were going to get some flooding along the coast road.
When I returned to the cottage, I fed and watered the dogs, then put on a pot of coffee. I glanced at my laptop, tempted to resume my search for tropical vacation destinations. But as tempting as it was to simply not deal with the confusing emotions I’d been suppressing for years, I knew Georgia was right. I wasn’t the sort to run from my problems. As scared as I was to face whatever feelings seeing Dax might stir up, I knew that facing him was exactly what I was going to do.
Chapter 2
The snow started not ten minutes after our last guest arrived. Dax had shown up early, and Georgia had checked him in while I was in my room, writing. So far, I’d managed to avoid him, but I’d promised to meet the group for dinner, so my reprieve was only temporary. I’d spoken to Kate, who planned to Skype with the writers during the first group gathering. She liked to attend these gatherings when she could, but she had a conflict this year and had known she wouldn’t be in attendance from the beginning. Kate and Dax were close—closer even than Kate and me—and she’d shared with me that she felt totally comfortable that he could handle whatever might arise. I was about to make my move from the cottage to the inn but decided to call to check in with Kate in the event she had any news or updates.
“Abby. Did everyone arrive all right?”
“They have all arrived,” I answered. “I’ve been working all day and haven’t had a chance to speak to anyone yet, but I’m about to head over to the inn now. I wanted to check in with you before I went.”
“Actually, I’m glad you called. Dax and I were chatting earlier and decided to pair up the writers. That way, each one will have a critique partner as well as someone to bounce ideas off. The problem is, we have seven writers, which is an odd number. Dax volunteered to partner with someone to even things out, but I think he needs to stay free to work with everyone. You don’t know of anyone who’d want to participate as a critique partner, do you? Maybe Georgia?”
“I’m sure Georgia would be happy to help out, but she is very busy right now between her cooking show and running the inn. But maybe Jeremy. He helps out at the inn, and while he is normally busy with the niece who lives with him during the afternoons, Annabelle is visiting her mother, who is home from her job overseas for two weeks, so he won’t need to drive her to and from school and afternoon activities. I’m not sure he’s ever written anything, but he likes to read, and he and I have discussed the various novels he’s read on several occasions. He lives at the inn, which helps because he will be around whenever he might be needed, so he makes sense from that perspective as well. If you’d like, I can ask him.”
“Yes. Do ask him. He sounds perfect. If he’s willing, let Dax know, and he’ll assign him a partner. Will he be at the dinner tonight?”
“Jeremy, Georgia, and I all plan to be there.”
“Wonderful. Dax will be handing out partner assignments during his introduction.”
“If Jeremy can’t do it for some reason, I’ll ask my neighbor, Nikki,” I offered. “She works part-time at the inn, but she has another job as well, so she’s only here a few hours a day, which is why I think Jeremy would be a better choice. I’ll call you later to let you know how it all worked out.”
“That would be wonderful, and thank you again for providing the inn at the last minute.”
“Thank you for booking all the rooms during an off week, when we were looking at total vacancies,” I countered.
“I doubt you’ll have that situation much longer. I’m hearing rave reviews about your place. I think you have a real gold mine on your hands. Did you see the article in the travel section of the Times?”
“I did.” I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of the glowing words. “We had a blogger stay with us over Christmas. I think the series of articles he wrote has put us on the map. We’ve been booking rooms like crazy since he was here, and he’s coming back this spring to do a spread about Holiday Bay being the perfect wedding venue, which I’m hoping will help with our high-season bookings as well.”
“I’d say you really lucked out when you booked that particular guest.”
In more ways than one, I thought to myself. Riley Camden was currently in Europe with Mylie Sanders, a guest he met during his stay at the inn. Mylie had come to the inn to find her one true love. I wasn’t sure Riley was the man Mylie hoped to
find, but the two had hit it off, and from the postcards they’d been sending to Georgia and me, it appeared they were having a wonderful time.
After I hung up with Kate, I headed out to find Jeremy. The last I’d seen him, he’d been shoveling the walks that meandered throughout the property. During the summer, the walkways that flowed here and there were popular with the guests, but during the winter, they provided a lot of cement to keep clear.
“Oh good, I found you,” I said to Jeremy when I ran into him at the old carriage house where we kept the larger equipment, such as the lawn tractor and snowblower. “I have a favor to ask you.”
He tipped the gas can into the snowblower, pouring it slowly so as not to spill. “Sure. Whatever you need.”
“Kate wants to pair up the writers for critiques, but she has an odd number and needs to find someone to even things out.”
He raised a brow. “You want me to join the group?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.” I paused as he set the gas can aside and replaced the cap. “We really just need someone to offer critiques and maybe provide a sounding board to generate ideas,” I continued. “You don’t have to actually write anything if you don’t want to.”
“I’d love to join the others, and I do have something I can work on during the event.”
Now it was my turn to raise my brows. “You do?”
He nodded. “I took a creative writing class in college. I started a novel but never finished it. After living with you all these months, I’ve been kicking around the idea of dusting it off and taking a stab at finishing it. Annabelle is with her mom until after the retreat is over, so the timing is perfect for me.”
“Wonderful.” I smiled. “I’ll let Dax know to count you in. You can plan to attend the workshops and breakout sessions as well if you’d like. I think we can be flexible with the snow clearing. In fact, I’ve pretty much decided if the snow comes down as fast as predicted, we’ll just let it build up on most of the walkways through the garden and deal with it later. I want to keep the path from the inn to the cottage clear, as well as from the inn to the bluff trail, but other than the drive and front walkway, everything else can wait.”
“There is still going to be a lot to keep up with,” Jeremy pointed out.
“Maybe, but I can help you before the group meets each morning, and I’m sure there will be an afternoon break. One way or another, we can make it work so you can be a true partner to whoever you’re paired with.”
Jeremy hugged me. “Thanks, Abby. This is going to be totally awesome.”
“I’m glad it worked out.”
“I’m just finishing up here, and then I planned to go in and get cleaned up so I can help Georgia with dinner. If Dax needs anything from me, just tell him I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“I will. And thanks again.”
Of course, the only way I was going to be able to pass Jeremy’s message on to Dax was to actually speak to the man, so I took a deep breath and headed to the inn.
Chapter 3
When I arrived at the inn, I greeted Georgia and then went looking for Dax, who she had seen in the library. We’d decided to set up the meeting space in the library because it was not only large enough for a conference table but had space to accommodate the large monitor Dax had brought with him as well. I also liked the fact that the workspace would be on the second floor, leaving the first floor for dining and relaxation.
“Dax,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster when I entered the library.
“Abby.” He grinned and opened his arms.
I took several steps forward and hugged the man who smelled better than anyone should. “It looks like you are getting set up. Do you have everything you need?”
“I do.” His eyes seemed to dance as he looked around. “Your place is fantastic. It is both charming and cozy. How are you settling into your new life here on the East Coast?”
“Very well, thank you. I love the inn, and I love Maine. It’s colder and snowier than California, but somehow it feels perfect.”
He brushed his longish blond hair away from his face. “I know what you mean. I’ve traveled quite a bit, and I can unequivocally say that there are some places that resonate with you in a way other places don’t. For me, that place is Italy. I love the food, the landscape, the people, the language, and the culture. I’m not quite ready to settle down, but when I do, I think it will be there.”
“I’ve never been to Italy, but I’ve seen photos, and I hear it’s lovely. It seems like a country steeped in romance. Have you visited recently?”
“I was there just this summer. I spent most of my time in Rome and Naples, really drinking in the history and the culture.”
“Is the architecture as beautiful as it appears to be in the movies?”
“Even more so. There is this one street in the oldest part of Naples…”
Dax shared a funny story about a tiny café and the tiny woman who owned it. He used as much description when he spoke as he did in his writing, and he soon had me both laughing and longing to make the trip myself one day. I wanted to walk the cobbled streets and lounge in the beautiful gardens. I yearned to look out over the glistening sea and stroll through the eclectic shops that lined the shore. I wanted to spend the day soaking up the culture and history as Dax had. And I found myself visualizing the two of us there together.
When my mind wandered to romantic encounters under a full moon, I realized it was time to get my imagination in check, so I looked around the room as Dax continued to share stories of his time in Europe. It looked like he had everything under control. He’d hung the large monitor on one wall and had positioned a small table with a computer and printer in one corner. The conference table was in the middle of the room, surrounded by ten chairs, which made things snug but appeared to work adequately. Along another wall was an additional table, where I assumed he’d set up the materials he needed. Dax always had been the organized sort. I supposed that was why his novels flowed with such smooth precision.
“Of course, once I found out about the affair, I was even more intrigued,” he continued. “So, what do you think?”
He paused, and I struggled to refocus.
What did I think? About the affair? He’d been talking about an affair? I had no idea how we’d gotten onto that subject. I guess I really had let my mind wander.
“I guess when in Rome,” I offered vaguely. “By the way, I spoke to Kate about an eighth writer,” I said in an attempt to divert his attention. “I think my handyman would be perfect. His name is Jeremy Slater, and he lives and works here at the inn. He will be around the entire long weekend. He took creative writing in college, and has a project he can dust off and work on if you need him to fill in.”
“That does sound perfect. Will he be at dinner?”
“He will.”
“Great. I am going to do introductions, and then I’ll announce pairs for the next few days.”
“Are you planning to get started this evening?” I asked.
“No. I’ll be having dinner with the group, handle the introductions, and provide a brief outline as to how the next four days will look, and then I am leaving to meet with my older brother, Walter’s, college roommate. He happens to live in Holiday Bay.”
“That’s quite a coincidence.”
“That’s what I thought when Kate called to tell me she’d moved the event here. I haven’t seen Tank in years. It will be good to catch up.”
“Your brother’s college roommate is named Tank?”
“Tank Tyson. His brother’s name is Train.”
“What unique names.”
“I always thought so. You know how I enjoy them.”
“Yes, I do seem to remember that the protagonists in your last two novels were named Ardal and Royden. Hard to forget. By the way, did Georgia explain the after-hours entry?”
“She said that the front door will be locked at ten, and if I return after that, I should use the kitchen door.”
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br /> “Exactly.”
“I’m not meeting Tank until eight, so I probably won’t be back by ten, but I won’t be too late. Breakfast is at eight tomorrow morning, right? You know how much I love my breakfast.”
I did remember that. That writers’ conference when we first met after we’d both signed with Kate, had been held in South Carolina in a large house overlooking the sea. Breakfast had been served on the deck every morning, and Dax was almost always the first one there.
We talked for a while longer. It was all very professional and superficial, but there was an undercurrent I couldn’t deny. I wondered if he felt it as well. It was true that I hadn’t been looking forward to seeing him again, but I hadn’t anticipated how nervous I’d be. I knew I needed to get out of there so I could deal with my runaway emotions, so I made up an excuse about needing to help Georgia with dinner and headed toward the kitchen.
“So?” Georgia asked. “Did birds sing?”
I tied an apron around my waist. “I can’t say that birds sang, but I will admit to being hyperaware of his every little movement, and I was a lot more nervous in a man’s company than I’ve been in a very long time. I’m not sure why. Dax was cordial and friendly. He acted exactly as an old colleague one hadn’t seen for years should. I think that I’ve probably built my feelings for him up in my head over the years, though, and what I think I feel is just a figment of my imagination. And you were right. It was a good idea for me to stay and confront those feelings head-on. If I’m going to get on with my life, I need to resolve all my relationship issues.” I looked around the kitchen. “So, how can I help?”
“You can get the cheese and fruit trays ready to go out, and there is a selection of wines on the back counter. I plan to start dinner at six-thirty because everyone is here and seems hungry. Dax mentioned a meet and greet at five, followed by his brief introduction at six. He also mentioned that he will probably sneak out before dessert because he needs to leave at seven-thirty to meet a friend.”
