Fishing boats from the area grabbed her attention as they moved out of the harbor, heading into the bay toward the ocean, providing the restaurants and stores with their fresh-caught bounty. Other charter boats were taking individuals or groups out for a chance to bring in bass, trout, red drum, or flounder. Pulling out her camera, she snapped pictures, zooming in to capture as much detail as possible.
Lifting the binoculars to her face, she stared out at the multitude of sea craft, beginning to recognize many of the local fishing vessels. Carson & Sons had two boats that went out every morning, the Taylors did blue crab fishing in the bay, and George Caday handled his own boat with the help of a few deckhands, having no family to assist. She remembered one of her student’s father and grandfather were the Carsons who owned that fishing business and he often spoke of wanting to become a fisherman as well. Fishing boats had sailed out of the Baytown Harbor for a century and Jade loved teaching her students about the history.
She had been thrilled to discover she could meet the local boats as they came in, buying fresh fish before their catch was sold to one of the restaurants.
Her gaze moved to the large merchant ships. Pulling out a pad of paper from her small backpack, she scribbled down the names and numbers she could identify on their sides. Later, she would Google the ships and where they were from, using the information with her class. The children loved to sit in their circle, surrounding the globe in her lab as she pointed out where the ships originated from or where they were bound. They may only be second graders but most had grown up on the bay, with many whose parents were farmers or fishermen. She knew some would never leave the shore, so expanding their world in any way she could was important.
Shoving her camera and paper back into her backpack, she carried her small sand bucket as she walked along, looking down, scouring the beach for sea glass. Since arriving in Baytown, she had been befriended by a group of women her age, all from the shore, and they had introduced her to collecting sea glass.
Tori owned the Sea Glass Inn, given to her by her grandmother. She smiled as she thought of the news that Tori and her police chief husband, Mitch, had announced at the last gathering. They were expecting a baby and she had been truly pleased. From the hoots and hollers from the others in their group, everyone else had shared their joy as well.
She had met Tori when she first moved to town, staying at the Inn for a few weeks until finding an apartment. That was where she also met Jillian and Katelyn, childhood friends of Tori’s, both born and raised in Baytown. Jillian owned the town’s coffee shop and Katelyn was part owner of the town’s pub, providing both women with the opportunity to know all the shore’s gossip. Jillian’s fiancé was another police officer in town while Katelyn and her fiancé ran a private investigation business. Belle, a nurses’ aide at the local nursing home, rounded out the group. These Baytown women had welcomed her into their circle and many sea glass-hunting trips turned into sharing and laughing. Helping to start the American Legion Auxiliary had been a thrill for her as well, now feeling like a Baytown woman herself.
Looking over the bay again, her heart was light, realizing how much she loved her life right now. Smiling, she bent over, snatching one of the colored pieces of glass deposited on the shore before the surf reclaimed it once again. With a whoop, she dropped it into her bucket, allowing it to join the others she had gathered.
Looking out toward the ships, she shouted, “Thanks!” before dropping her head to continue her search as she walked. She had learned that sea glass came from the glass bottles the sailors tossed overboard. The glass breaks and is ground by the sand and the surf so that by the time the small pieces wash upon the shore, their edges are rounded and smooth.
She had an ever-growing collection of jars filled with sea glass in her apartment, but always took some to her students to talk to them about the treasures the bay offers. Remembering their excitement when she first showed it to them, she was surprised to learn that many of the children had not ever searched for sea glass…
“Where do you go on the weekends?” she asked.
One small boy replied, “I gotta help Daddy pick tomatoes on the weekend.”
His answer stunned her, not realizing that for some of the children, they worked on their parents’ farms even at such a young age.
“I go out on Gramps’ boat to work with my older brother and dad,” said another boy.
“Mama works at the grocery store on the weekends, so I gotta stay home,” one girl spoke up. Smiling proudly, she added, “My older sister watches me and our little sister, and I help clean the house.”
Sucking in a deep breath through her nose to clear her mind, she faced the realization that the lives of many of her students did not include leisurely walks on the beach. I’m in the right place, doing the right job. Even if my parents never agree.
Baytown, part of North Heron County, on the Eastern Shore, was one of the poorest counties in Virginia, if not the poorest. It was the reason she had discovered it. The opportunity to work in a school that was desperate for educators who loved teaching and children, regardless of the pay, brought her to the shore. She loved her job and the children she taught, but knew the state was eyeballing their school, monitoring the progress.
Sighing, she continued her musing as she walked. It was so hard to deviate from teaching what you love to teach to the state tests, so she relished any opportunity she had to enrich her students’ lives.
Lost in thought, she bent over continuously, picking up more and more sea glass as she walked southward on the beach. The sun rose slightly higher in the sky making the glint off the shiny glass easier to see. The gulls called out to each other, swooping down into the surf, ascending with a fish in their beaks. A Blue Heron stood like a sentinel, its long legs in the water as it eyed it, waiting for the instant it could plunge underneath and return with a crab.
She dropped another fragment into the bucket when she spied a large green piece at the edge of the water and scrambled forward to snag it quickly. Closing her fingers around the glass, she felt elated as it plunked loudly into the pink plastic container. Hopping in a silly dance of joy, she continued her walk southward, head down.
Eyes focused on the sand below, she startled when a large pair of flip-flop covered feet moved directly into her path and her body collided with another’s.
A yelp left her lips as she lifted her head, stumbling backward, dropping her bucket. In front of her stood a man—tall, muscular, his legs planted widely and his hands on his cargo-shorts clad hips. A loose, wrinkled t-shirt blew in the breeze, allowing the material to plaster against his wide chest. Dark hair, dark bearded scruff, and square jaw. Sunglasses covered his eyes until he lifted one hand and raised them to the top of his head. Now that she could see his hazel eyes, she realized they were boring straight through her and she felt the heat of their pissed off sparks.
“Oh,” she stammered. “I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”
He said nothing.
“Uh…I wasn’t looking where I was going…really, I’m so very sorry.”
Silence met her again.
Blushing, she sucked in her lips, dropping her gaze away from his intense stare. Seeing her bucket on the sand, she bent to pick it up, jerking when he spoke, his deep voice clipping each word.
“You’re trespassing.”
Eyes wide, she opened her mouth before snapping it shut. Her brows lowered as she looked around at the empty beach. Lifting her eyes back to his, she felt the anger radiating from his body. “I…uh…trespassing?”
“Yes.”
Her head turned from side to side, searching for an indication of privacy. “There…there isn’t a sign…or uh…anything—”
“You’re on private property.”
Licking her lips, wishing she had her sunglasses on to feel less exposed in front of him, her eyes darted behind him where she spied the roof of a long, low house just beyond the dunes.
“Oh…I’m sorry.” The
man’s gaze dropped to the bucket in her hand and she could have sworn his anger ratcheted up another notch. Self-consciously she moved the bucket slightly behind her as she stepped backward. “Well, I’m sorry. I…uh…I’ll just…” Walking backward a few steps, she hoped he would say something to lessen the embarrassment, but he just continued to glare.
“And that includes anything you find on this private property,” he announced.
“Huh?”
He nodded toward the bucket in her hand.
Her mouth dropped open as frustration speared through her. “I picked this sea glass up as I walked…not here.” Seeing his unyielding stance, she added, “Well, except for the last piece I picked up.” She reached into the bucket and pulled out the large green piece, holding it out for him to take.
He kept his hands on his hips and she stood, feeling awkward as he stared. She pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say. He slid his sunglasses back down on his face and she slowly lowered her hand, dropping the glass back into the bucket.
His silence was deafening and the heat she felt on her face was not from the sun, as embarrassment flooded her. Uncertain what he wanted her to do or say, she decided the best option was to flee. Turning quickly, she hurried down the beach in the direction of town, no longer looking for sea glass, the enjoyment of the morning now ruined.
3
An hour later, walking into Jillian’s coffee shop, a head jerk from the barista indicated her friends were upstairs. The murmur of voices blended together with the hissing of the espresso machine. The old, brick building had been bought by Jillian’s parents, who turned it into a coffee shop. They kept the solid wood paneling, carved wooden support poles, and the glass display cases on the sides of the long room downstairs.
Antique tables and amber sconces on the walls, to soften the sunlight that came from the front, gave the quaint shop its ambiance. The unused upstairs had become Jillian’s joy as she restored the second floor to the same glory as the coffee shop downstairs and showcased local artists’ paintings on the dark paneled walls. Patrons could take their food upstairs and sit at the tables surrounding the area to enjoy the arts while relishing the treats, but usually she and her friends commandeered the upstairs when they needed a place to sit and talk.
The scent of the roasting coffee beans followed her as she ascended. Rounding the corner at the top, she observed Jillian, Katelyn, Tori, and Belle already sitting at a table next to a tall window overlooking Main Street. Tori’s reddish hair glowed in the sunlight streaming through the glass. Jillian, with her blonde, girl-next-door looks and Katelyn, with her Irish blue eyes and dark hair always made Jade think what an interesting trio the original Baytown Girls made. Add in Belle’s sweet face, and the kind hearts they all exuded, and she loved spending time with her friends. But now, approaching the gathering, she tried to meet their friendly smiles with one of her own, but failed.
Belle, more sensitive than most, immediately jumped up, her hands extended as Jade walked closer. “Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?”
Having gained the rapt attention of the others, whose faces now mirrored Belle’s concern, she shrugged. “Just had an embarrassing encounter this morning, that’s all,” she replied, accepting Belle’s hug.
“What happened?” asked Tori, patting the seat next to her.
She gratefully slid into the delicate chair, twisting her head toward the barista who had followed her upstairs with another coffee. Taking a sip of the sweet, steaming brew, she sighed as she leaned back. “I was out on the beach, checking out the ships and looking for sea glass. I had no idea that part of the beach was private.”
Katelyn frowned, her head giving a slight jerk. “The Baytown beach isn’t private. What on earth made you think that?”
“No, no, not the town beach. But south of town. Beyond the Dunes Golf Course.” Seeing the now shared frowns of the others, she continued her explanation. “I sometimes go way past the golf course and walk along the beach. There’s almost no one out in the early morning and the beach is so peaceful.”
“And?” Katelyn prompted.
“Well, I didn’t know that the beach was part of someone’s private property.”
“It’s not,” Katelyn and Jillian exclaimed in unison.
“Oh, but it is,” Jade contended. “I met the owner.”
Jillian shook her head, her blonde braid swinging back and forth. “Jade, I’m telling you the beach is not private. People can own to the dunes, but the actual beach is not private.”
Her brow furrowed as she sucked in her lips, now more confused than ever.
“Tell us what happened—” Tori began before her attention jumped to the stairs, “oh, babe, hi!”
The others looked over, seeing Mitch Evans round the top of the stairs, his smile aimed at his wife. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he said, as he made his way to Tori’s side. Leaning over, he placed a sweet kiss on her lips as his hand slid gently to her still-flat tummy.
The women smiled amongst themselves at the loving gesture.
Standing, Mitch said, “I hated I didn’t get a chance to greet you this morning, with the call I got.”
“Was everything okay?” Tori asked. She turned to the others and said, “There was a car accident past the diner on the way out of town.”
Nodding, Mitch replied, “Yeah, it was. No one was hurt, but Zac checked them out anyway. Jason got an early morning call and towed both cars into his shop.”
Jade knew Jason was another new transplant to town, like her. He came at the invitation of Zac, both having served in the Navy together. As the town’s only mechanic, he snagged all the towing business as well. Zac was the fire chief and EMT.
Mitch was turning to leave when Tori halted him with her hand on his arm. “Sweetie, Jade was just telling us that someone told her the beaches south of town were private.”
Blushing again, she quickly offered, “Oh, no, it’s no big deal. I don’t need Mitch to hear about my embarrassing morning.”
Mitch turned his full attention toward her, his brow creasing. “What happened? Were you harassed?”
“No, not at all. I just wandered onto someone’s private beach and had no idea I was trespassing. The owner made sure to let me know I was on his land.” Offering a slight shrug, she added, “I was just embarrassed, that’s all.”
“He? Who told you this?”
“I…uh…I don’t know. I was south of the golf course and, after I was stopped, I did see a low house over the dunes.”
Mitch’s hands landed on his hips, his brows still drawn down. “Can you describe him?”
“Uh…well, he was tall. Dark hair. Slightly scruffy beard…more like he just hadn’t shaved yet. He was in good shape.”
“And what did he tell you?”
She replied, “Well, that I was trespassing. I told him I was sorry but that I hadn’t seen any signs. He stayed pretty mad at me so, after I apologized again, I started to leave. Oh, yeah, he also seemed really irritated that I had been picking up sea glass.”
At that, a collective gasp went up as Tori, Katelyn, and Jillian all exclaimed, “Lance!”
Mitch dropped his chin, his head shaking, whether in irritation or mirth, she did not know.
Katelyn, blue eyes snapping, spouted, “I can’t believe he told you that.”
“That makes me furious,” Jillian added.
“Girls,” Tori’s voice cut through, her eyes on her husband’s face. Gaining their attention, she said, “Let Mitch deal with it.”
He lifted his head, a slight smile playing about his lips. She watched as he squeezed his wife’s shoulder and felt their powerful love expressed in a glance and a touch.
Mitch turned to her, saying, “I’ll talk to him, Jade. The beach is not his, but…well, Lance likes his privacy.” With one last kiss for Tori, he nodded to the others and headed back down the stairs, leaving her mouth hanging open.
“I…how…oh, my God!” she fumed. “How dare he! That man stood there
, fire pouring from his eyes and dared to berate me for trespassing on his beach? His beach? What a jerk!”
Katelyn’s temper flared as well, shaking her head in derision. “I’ve only been around him a few times, ‘cause ever since he’s been in town, he lives like a recluse—”
Belle, ever the peacemaker, her hands fluttering about, quickly said, “Maybe he was confused…or maybe he just didn’t know…or maybe—”
“Nope, no excuse for assholery,” Jade quipped, slapping her hand down on the table. The quartet was quiet for a second before laughter burst forth. She looked over in surprise, her frown still in place.
“Assholery?” Jillian giggled.
Rolling her eyes, she fought her own grin. “Well, that’s my word for when someone has been an asshole.”
“I like it,” Katelyn declared, her eyes dancing.
“I hate to say this,” Tori said, hesitating as she held Jade’s eyes, “and I have no excuse for his behavior this morning, but I’ve gotten to know Lance…just a little…since he and Mitch became friends when they met in the Army.”
Jade respected Tori’s opinion so she sucked in a deep breath and said, “So, what was this morning about?”
Tori shrugged before replying, “Well, I know he is intensely private. I know he gives virtually no information out about himself, but he’s made a few friends with the guys through the American Legion.”
“I never see him around town,” Belle commented, her voice heavy. “That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”
“Well, he still didn’t have to be so mean to Jade,” Katelyn defended.
Picking Up the Pieces Page 2