“Because, before I left you and ran back to my cabin, I told you that kissing you was better than sailing across the lake.”
The breath caught in Natalie’s throat, and she was that blindfolded girl, again—her heart beating like a drum just as it had after she’d had her first kiss. She’d never told a soul about what her kiss keeper had said to her before he disappeared into the night. It hadn’t made much sense at the time, and she’d been reeling from not only the most perfect first kiss but from evading the night patrol.
“It’s you,” she said on a tight whisper.
A flash of hope shined in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. I never wanted to hurt you, Natalie. I—”
She stepped back, and the tangle of humiliation, shame, and astonishment inside her went numb as one truth made itself known loud and clear.
The Kiss Keeper Curse hadn’t been broken.
She pushed past him and ran out into the rain.
“Natalie, please, stop! We need to talk. I never wanted it to be like this,” he called, coming after her, but she had to get away from him.
Her cowgirl hat flew off as she sprinted toward the waterfront with Jake close on her heels.
Heels.
Tears ran down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. She should have known this would happen. She should have been smarter than to trust a man she’d know for less than a week. And more than that, she should have remembered the curse.
Her boots clapped against the worn wooden dock as she snagged a lifejacket from a hook and spied her escape. Strapping on the jacket, she stepped into the small Sunfish sailboat and slid in the centerboard.
“Natalie, what are you doing?”
“Not flying,” she bit out as she rigged the small two-person boat, preparing to sail.
“It’s raining,” he said, his voice shaking.
“I’m going to Woolwich Island. I need to be alone,” she said, securing the mask and pulling up the sail.
With his toes edged up to the end of the dock, he ran his hands down his face. “I’m sorry, so damn sorry, Heels. Don’t go!”
Her heart shattered, but she waved off his words. “Don’t apologize. It’s easier this way.”
“Why would it be easier?” he asked, anguish lacing his words.
She untied the boat from the rusty cleat, freeing it from the dock, then pushed off as inches of water between them became feet then yards.
She swallowed back a sob. “Because now, all you are is just another Jake who broke my heart.”
11
Natalie
Natalie drew the brush across the canvas. Stroke after stroke, she blended the blues and greens until an angry churning sea engulfed the white backdrop, swallowing up a tiny battered rowboat. After all the revelations, and after all the deception came to light, she’d gone where Jake couldn’t follow her—the ocean.
Perhaps, it was cruel, setting off into the same sea where he’d lost his parents, but she’d had no choice. And it wasn’t like she’d gone far. She’d sailed the short distance to Woolwich Island, hundreds of times. Despite the rain, the winds had been relatively calm, and she’d reached her refuge with no problems. And that’s where she’d stayed until the sun rose and then she’d sailed back to camp in the first threads of dawn. She hadn’t gone back to the cottage she’d shared with Jake. She couldn’t risk seeing him or worse than that, remembering what they’d shared. Instead, she’d holed up in the arts and crafts room, sustaining herself on packets of trail mix and soda from the vending machine in the lodge.
And that’s where she’d spent another day and night, painting. She’d poured herself onto the canvas. With powerful strokes and broken, jagged lines, she laid out her soul in the shades of the ocean as a newfound peace set in.
Maybe she’d been the screw-up Woolwich granddaughter, but staring across the cove after a night on Woolwich Island and watching the veil of darkness rise to reveal the camp that she’d loved her whole life, she knew she belonged here. The curse may have cost her the love of a partner, but she wasn’t about to let it hinder the connection she had to this place.
And, despite her broken heart that still longed for Jake’s touch, that had to be enough.
If her grandparents still wanted her, she was ready to dedicate her life to Camp Woolwich.
She wiped a lock of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand and concentrated on the composition coming together in front of her when a knock at the door pulled her attention from the painting.
“Natalie, can we come in?” her grandmother called from the hallway.
“Sure,” she answered, then set down her palette, rested the brush on a sheet of old newspaper, and stared at her latest painting.
“There’s more depth to your work now,” her grandma said, coming to her side.
“It’s not the silly blackberry bush nature scene I used to paint over and over again,” she replied, thinking back to when she and her grandmother would come here and paint. Artist in Residence, Beverly Woolwich, working on a masterpiece for a show, and little Natalie Callahan, content with her berries and butterflies.
Grandma Bev crossed her arms, taking in the watery landscape. “Those were good, too. But when I look at this, I see wisdom.”
Natalie laughed, a tired, ragged sound. “After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure I can boast that quality.”
“Well, I see green and blue,” her Grandpa Hal said, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, and there’s a boat,” he added as she shared a look with her grandmother, who pressed her lips together, suppressing a chuckle.
Her grandpa glanced around the room, then gestured to a trio of stools. “Can we sit and have a chat?”
Natalie wiped her hands on an old rag, ignoring the paint crusted to her nail beds, and joined her grandparents. Everyone had left her alone these last couple of days. She hadn’t changed her clothes or left the lodge and probably looked like a zombie cowgirl by this point, but she knew that, eventually, her grandparents would come to find her. She could only hope that it wasn’t to tell her that they didn’t trust her with the camp.
“We owe you an apology, Natalie,” her grandfather said, folding his hands on the oak table dusted with a smattering of dried paint.
Nat shook her head. “I think you’ve got that turned around. I’m the one who owes you both an apology. I’m the one who brought a fake boyfriend here that happened to want to steal the camp out from under our family. But I’ve had some time to think, and I know that beyond a doubt, my place is here. I hope that you’ll still allow me to take over Camp Woolwich.” She steadied herself. “And I can promise you one more thing. I’m done trying to find Mr. Right. You don’t have to worry about me parading a bunch of strangers here ever again.”
“Of course, we don’t have to worry. You’ve already found your Mr. Right,” her grandma answered with a quizzical look.
“Jake?” she sputtered as her grandparents nodded. Natalie threw up her hands. “How, after everything that he kept from me, could I trust him with the camp?”
And her heart. But she wasn’t about to go there with her grandparents.
“Because you love him, kiddo,” her grandpa Hal replied with a New Englander no-nonsense shrug.
Nat’s jaw dropped. “Love him? Grandpa, I met him at the airport a week ago. Who falls in love that fast?”
Her grandparents shared a knowing look.
“Everyone gets so wrapped up in the story about your grandfather winning this land in a hand of poker and how we got married here the next day that most don’t even ask us how or even when we met,” her grandmother said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Natalie reared back. “You’re right. I figured you guys were together before he won the land. So, I’ll bite, when did you meet?”
Her grandfather took her grandmother’s hand. “The day before we got married.”
“The day. As in, you knew each other for twenty-four hours before you decided to take vows to be together forever?�
�� Natalie shot back.
Bev tapped her chin. “Well, it was more like thirty-two hours. I met your grandfather around lunchtime on a Friday, and I married him a little after dinner on Saturday.”
“How could you know so fast?” Natalie asked.
“Sometimes, you just know,” her grandmother answered.
Nat leaned forward. “How did your whirlwind romance even start?”
“It was fifty years ago, and it feels like yesterday,” Hal began. “You see, Natalie, Charlie Linton was a friend of mine from college. He was quite impulsive back then and had gotten himself into some trouble playing cards. He owed the wrong people a good amount of money. When he told me that he was going back home to pick up some cash he had stashed in his childhood room and then planned on playing in a high-stakes poker game that night, I told him I wanted to tag along. But I was really there to try to keep him out of trouble.”
“And I grew up next door to Charlie. We’d been friends for years, and he introduced me to your grandfather,” her Grandma Bev added.
Natalie glanced between her grandparents. “And it was love at first sight?”
Her grandmother chuckled. “Oh, heavens, no! I thought your grandfather was a hooligan.”
“You see, Nat, your Grandma Beverly insisted on coming with us to this underground card club. Once Charlie was losing, we tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t. When he ran out of cash, he pulled a deed from his pocket and told us he was going to bet some land in Maine that had been left to him. I didn’t want his family land falling into the hands of some gangster, so I bought my way into the game.”
She watched her grandfather closely. “And that’s when you won what became Woolwich Cove, right, Grandpa?”
“Yes,” he answered with a solemn nod.
“But that’s not all. Tell her, Hal?” her grandmother nudged.
Her grandfather sighed. “Charlie had gotten pretty drunk after losing everything. I don’t think he remembers much after signing the deed over to me. We brought him home, and then your grandmother and I went back to the card club.”
Natalie cocked her head to the side. “Why?”
“That’s what I kept asking your grandfather on the drive back over! I was livid! I thought he was going back to gamble.”
Natalie searched her grandfather’s eyes. “What did you go back for, Grandpa?”
“To pay Charlie’s debts,” the man answered.
Natalie sat back. “You’re kidding?”
Grandpa Hal’s cheeks grew the slightest bit pink. “Your grandmother wasn’t wrong. I was a bit of a hooligan and a card shark in my day. So, I had the money.”
“But that was all your grandfather’s money—every last cent. And I knew the minute that he went back to that club and paid off Charlie’s debt that he was the kind of man I could spend my life with,” her grandmother answered.
“And then there was all the kissing,” her grandfather added, causing her grandmother to blush, and the twist of a grin pulled at the corners of her grandfather’s mouth. “And it wasn’t all my money. We found a crinkled one-hundred-dollar bill in the glove box of my old Chevy. That’s what I used to pay for your grandmother’s ring, and then, we spent the money we had left on the hotel room we stayed in for our wedding night when we—”
Nat closed her eyes and shook her head. “Fast-forward through that part, please,” she blurted, not ready to picture her grandparents like that when a question popped into her head. “And what did Charlie do when he learned you got married?”
Her grandmother Bev’s expression grew serious. “My sister told me that when Charlie found out I’d married Hal, he packed up that day and moved out west.”
Natalie glanced between them. “You didn’t tell him that you’d paid off the gangsters?”
Hal sat back and steepled his fingers. “I have a feeling Charlie knows what I did, but I didn’t need to rub it in his face.”
Natalie’s thoughts spiraled. “Did you ever consider giving the land back?”
Her grandparents shared a serious look, and Grandpa Hal nodded.
“We’d considered it. But when we got here, I knew we’d done the right thing by keeping it. When Charlie looked at this land, he only saw dollar signs. But the moment we arrived and stared out at the ocean, we knew this place was special. We knew we were meant to be stewards of this land and do our best to share the beauty of this perfect slice of Maine with as many deserving people as possible.”
Natalie stared out the window toward the ocean and imagined her grandparents, young and wild and free, staring out at the sea and promising to make a life together.
Her grandfather patted her cheek. “Here’s the thing. Life is like the tides. The tide comes in, and the tide goes out. All you can do is accept what it brings and go from there.”
“Did you really consider selling?” she asked as her gaze lingered on the sparkling water.
“What we considered was who would be the best choice to take over. So, we invited everyone here then stepped back, and with Fish’s help, we were able to see what happened when someone needed to step up,” her grandfather answered with a sly grin.
Natalie’s hand flew to her chest. “You invited all the community groups to show up at the same time.”
“And only two people came forward and made sure that everything ran smoothly,” her grandmother replied.
“And those two people were you and Jake,” her grandfather finished.
Bev gave her a knowing smile. “When your grandfather and I first got here, we knew that our lives were meant to intersect. We had an instant connection to each other and to this place. You and Jake share that, too.”
Nat closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. “How do you know that Jake didn’t do everything to try to trick us into selling? How do you know he wasn’t pretending?”
“People who are pretending don’t look at each other the way he looks at you and the way you look at him,” her grandmother replied.
She sighed, and her gaze drifted back to the ocean. “Did he leave?”
“He did. Fish drove him into town,” her grandfather answered.
“Not to the airport?” she replied, hating herself for the thread of hope that wove its way through her heart at the notion that Jake could still be nearby.
Grandma Bev patted her hand. “We don’t know where he went from there, dear.”
She nodded. “And the camp? Do you still trust me to run it on my own?”
Her grandfather glanced at his watch, then gestured to the door. “Let’s take a walk. We still have a couple of hours until we’re expected on Woolwich Island.”
“For your vow renewal ceremony! That’s tonight! You probably need to go, and I should get ready.” Natalie sprang to her feet, then caught her reflection in the window. “Yikes, I need a shower.”
“We’ve got time. Walk with us, Nat. We’d like to chat with you about what Camp Woolwich will look like moving forward,” her grandfather said and gestured to the door.
Moving forward?
They left the lodge and took the trail that led to the cottages.
Her Grandpa Hal clasped his hands behind his back. “We’d like to set up a board of trustees. Your grandmother and I would serve in an advisory capacity only. All the decisions would be yours, but we also wanted to involve the community and invite some family members to participate as well.”
“Your grandfather and I have already spoken to—”
“Grandpa, why did you want me to meet you here?” Leslie said, rounding the bend and cutting off their conversation.
“Perfect timing, dear,” her grandmother said and squeezed her cousin’s hand.
Heat rose to Natalie’s cheeks. “Don’t tell me you want Leslie on the board?”
“Why shouldn’t I be on the board?” Leslie asked, giving her a healthy dose of side-eye.
Hal crossed his arms. “You girls have been butting heads for years, and for the sake of the camp, it’s time t
hat ended.”
“Natalie, we want you to run the camp, but we’d like to have Leslie on the board, too,” her grandmother added.
Natalie’s gaze bounced between her grandparents. “But Leslie hates this place.”
“I do not hate it,” her cousin shot back.
Natalie released a heavy sigh. “Well, you hate me.”
Leslie shrugged.
“All that ends today,” her grandmother said with a little clap of her hands. “You’re going to race each other and end this hostility once and for all.”
“Race?” she and her cousin replied in unison.
“A tree-climbing race,” her grandfather said, clearly suppressing a grin.
Leslie scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, yes. Like it or not, you both care about Camp Woolwich, and we want you both involved in its future. A good healthy race will help quash this competition between the two of you. Plus, we also need someone to clean the boys’ latrine,” her grandmother answered.
“What?” the women again echoed in unison.
“Yes, I told the boys that one of you would take care of it today,” Hal added, not even trying to hide his amusement now.
“So, this is some kind of team building rah-rah thing, and the loser has to clean the boys’ latrine?” Leslie clarified.
“Everyone has to contribute their part at Camp Woolwich. You both know that,” her grandmother answered with a devious smile.
“That tree?” Leslie asked, gesturing with her chin.
Natalie stared up at the majestic oak, and a rush of confidence flooded her system. This was one of her favorite trees to climb as a girl, and after all that had gone down, she was D, O, N, E, done with her elder cousin’s I’m-better-than-you attitude.
“Yep, this is the one,” her grandfather said, rocking back on his heels to stare up at the towering oak.
Natalie met Leslie’s gaze as if this were some Wild West duel. The women remained still for a beat then two before Natalie kicked off her cowgirl boots and sprinted toward the tree.
The Kiss Keeper Page 18