You Send Me

by Jeannie Moon

  You Send Me

  A Compass Cove Novel

  Jeannie Moon

  You Send Me

  Copyright © 2018 Jeannie Moon

  EPUB Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  First Publication by Tule Publishing Group 2018

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-948342-93-3

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  Dedication

  To all the good men in the world. Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Compass Cove series

  About the Author

  Dear Reader,

  What makes a family? If you really think about it, it’s so much more than a blood relation. It’s a sense of belonging, and the security of knowing you’re with your people—the ones who love you most of all. Throughout the course of You Send Me, Jordan learns that family is more than just a word. The bonds go much deeper. Because of this epiphany, when she’s feeling most alone, Jordan comes to understand that her friends, neighbors and one very special doctor, are there for her no matter what.

  Compass Cove is a place that embodies the idea of family, and to bring that concept to life, I pull from my own experiences. I’m fortunate to know that kind of love and support first hand, and I hope the story helped each of you feel a little bit closer to the people who love you best.

  Jordan and Nick gave me fits from day one. I’ve never written a more stubborn couple, and many people need to be thanked for their part in this story. The Tule Publishing team is, without a doubt, the best in the publishing world. I am forever grateful to be part of such a wonderful family. Lisa Stone Hardt helped me see past the nose on my face, so I could really dig deep into this story. Thank you, my friend. I had a wonderful beta reader on this project, and I can’t thank her enough. Alycia Corcoran, your input was wonderfully insightful. You have a storyteller’s soul, and I have no doubt I’ll be beta reading your book one day. Jennifer Gracen polished my words to a spit shine, as she always does. Thanks, Jen! Finally, I have to thank reader Julie Fetter for giving Jordan’s little Peagle, Gertie, her name. It’s perfect, Julie…thanks!

  I hope you all enjoy your visit to Compass Cove and that Jordan and Nick’s love story will stay with you for a very long time.

  xo

  Jeannie

  Compass Cove, Long Island, New York

  f. 1667

  In the year 1750, on the North Shore of Long Island, a young woman named Lucy Velsor mourned her beloved husband, who had been lost at sea. Not long after his death, his shipmates—hoping to comfort the young widow—brought her his compass. It was a finely crafted instrument, made by the local compasssmith, whose family had settled the town of Compass Cove generations before. Lucy cherished the memento, taking care to kiss its face every day. One day, two years after her husband’s death, the compass needle began to quiver and spin, never settling on a direction.

  Desperate to have it fixed, Lucy brought it to the compasssmith’s shop. The shop’s proprietor, Caleb Jennings, had loved Lucy from afar, never knowing if he should pay a call on the beautiful widow. But when Lucy set the compass in Caleb’s hand, it stopped spinning and the needle pointed at him, stunning them both. Taking the compass’ strange behavior as a sign, Caleb put aside his fears and began to court Lucy. It didn’t take long for the couple to fall in love and marry. They spent many wonderful years together, making a home and family, living into their eighties, and dying just a few days apart. Before he left this world, Caleb credited the ghost of Lucy’s first husband for setting the compass spinning and helping them find their way to each other.

  To this day, Jennings Fine Compasses and Watches still resides on Main Street and is owned by one of Caleb’s and Lucy’s descendants. Many families in Compass Cove keep a compass in their home as a symbol of selfless love and as a reminder that hearts meant to love will always find each other.

  Prologue

  Nine Months Ago

  Jordan Velsor expected her last night as a single woman to be spent dreaming about her fairy tale wedding. Instead, she was sitting on the beach behind her cottage, drinking expensive champagne straight from the bottle, and wondering how she could have been so stupid.

  Wearing a pair of threadbare yoga pants and gray hoodie, she dug her perfectly polished pink toes into the cool, wet sand and shivered. If it was a normal night, Jordan would have thought the chill was from the cool breeze coming off Jennings Bay. But tonight, was anything but normal.

  Tonight, Jordan had been played for a fool. She’d become a cliché.

  Her whole life—the future she’d had planned, everything she thought she’d wanted—fell apart before she could process how it all happened.

  “Jesus. There you are.” Jordan recognized her friend Lilly’s voice right away. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to be found,” Jordan griped.

  With a flick of her wrists, the old plaid beach blanket Lilly was carrying floated up and then slowly dropped to the sand next to Jordan. “Get up and sit on this. Your ass is going to get all wet.”

  So what? was all Jordan thought. Who cared if her ninety-dollar thong got salty and sandy? No one was going to see it. “Please tell me you brought more alcohol.”

  “Yep. And food. I brought cheese and bread from brunch today. Oh, and I stole some cupcakes from the rehearsal dinner.”

  It all sounded good, but Jordan had no appetite. “They’re probably going to sue me for calling it all off. I just couldn’t…”

  Lilly looped her arm around Jordan’s shoulder. “You owe me no explanation. As far as I’m concerned, you did the right thing.”

  The sound of the waves crashing on the beach matched the rushing in Jordan’s head. It was an endless thundering noise that rattled her nerves, and it was all caused by the scene she’d walked in on that day at Chase’s office.

  Her perfect fiancé—the tall, blond, and handsome lawyer, the millionaire and favorite son of a prominent family—was caught with his pants down, grinding against his secretary. Her blouse was open, her pencil skirt hiked up to her waist, and she had one long leg snaked arou
nd his hip.

  Jordan’s voice caught in her throat at the sight of her future husband with another woman, and she started backing out of the office. Chase never would have known she was there if she hadn’t bumped into a desk chair, knocking it into a wire cart, which then tipped over.

  That foiled her plan of running, because once Chase turned and saw her, the truth of her life as it could be became clear. Things like this happened, Chase explained. And it was time she understood that.

  His secretary never came out of the office, and when her fiancé closed the door to shield the woman inside, Jordan’s heart slammed shut.

  Things like this might happen in other marriages, but not in hers. It was over.

  “Want to talk about it?” Lilly wouldn’t press, but since she was the one who ran interference when Jordan told Chase and his family that the wedding was off, she figured she had a right to know.

  “He’s been cheating.”

  “I got that much,” Lilly snarled—loyal to the core. “The rat bastard.”

  “His family told me I was overreacting. You know, ‘I’m naïve. He’s a red-blooded man.’”

  “That’s such bullshit.”

  “That’s pretty much what I said.” Jordan took a long pull on the bottle of champagne and realized she’d drained it. “Jeez. Cristal sure goes down easy.”

  “So, it’s over.”

  “Yep. My dream wedding, my marriage, my life, all went ‘poof!’”

  “I never liked him.”

  That brought a smile to her lips. “I know.”

  “Now what?”

  “I come back to reality. I stop living in my dreams, and face my life going forward. That’s it. No more romantic fantasies for me. They just aren’t worth it.”

  *

  Nick Rinaldi stood on the back porch of his grandparents’ house and watched the two women on the beach slugging back something from a bottle. He shifted his stance, shuffling his weight between his leg and his cane, and wondered what they were doing out there on an unusually damp and cool August night. One of the women was Nona’s tenant, Jordan Velsor. Pretty girl. She was a teacher, like all the occupants of the family cottage before her, and he thought he heard Nona say something about her being engaged to that tool, Chase Stanley.

  He’d gotten a look at her the other day. Tall and blonde, with legs up to her neck, she was coming in from a run on the beach. He was envious. Running was always his way to decompress, and he’d like nothing better than to be able to run his way down the beach, through town and out to Gulls Point.

  Jordan didn’t see him sitting on the porch, which was probably a good thing.

  “Nicky? What are you doing out here?” His grandmother, Lina Rinaldi, had been fussing over him since he arrived home the week before. Following his eyes out to the beach, she spotted Jordan and her friend. “From what I hear, I’m not losing my tenant. The wedding is off.”

  “Yeah? I’d say it’s too bad, but if it’s true she’s better off. Stanley is an asshole.”

  “Still, can’t be easy. The wedding was tomorrow. I wonder what happened.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find out at the café in the morning.” Rinaldi’s Café was the hub of their small town of Compass Cove. If there was gossip, Nona would hear about it.

  “True enough.” She paused and gave him a good once-over. “How are you feeling?”

  “The weather isn’t helping my hip any.” Two months out of recovery from his latest surgery and his damn hip still wasn’t right. Rain was the worst. He could tell if a storm was coming two days out. Nothing like a couple of bullets from an AK-47 to ruin your day.

  His next surgery was at the end of the summer, and that was going to set him back before it helped.

  Nick watched as Jordan’s head dropped onto Lilly’s shoulder. She was definitely hurting. Poor kid. It was too bad she didn’t know she’d dodged her own bullet.

  Chapter One

  The deep rattling cough woke her from a restless sleep. This cold was kicking her ass, but even though all she wanted to do was burrow under the covers, she was out of tissues, and the dog needed to go outside.

  Glancing out her window, the weather had worsened. She almost would have been content putting out a pad for Gertie to go inside, but her tissues and cough medicine were in the back seat of her car. She had to go out regardless.

  “Come on, Gertie, time to pee.”

  With a whimper and a moan from her spot at the other end of the couch, her little rescue buried her face in the corner. Gertie was no dummy.

  “Look, if I have to go out, so do you. Your bladder is the size of a thimble, and it’s going to get even worse later.”

  The dog sighed—sighed her annoyance at Jordan. A dog with an attitude. Didn’t it figure? Gertie practically rolled off the plush cushion and settled on her back on the blue patterned rug. Her short little legs were straight up in the air, feigning death.

  Jordan felt pretty dead herself, but they still had to go outside.

  The wind howled, and all the windows in the cottage shook like it was going to lift up and fly away. Gust after gust provided a not-so-subtle reminder that the nor’easter currently blowing across Long Island was going to make all their lives miserable. This storm was brutal. It had been wreaking havoc for the last twelve hours and based on the latest weather report it had slowed down to a crawl, meaning it was going to stick around for a while.

  Grabbing the dog’s leash, Jordan gently nudged the little furry blob on the floor. Nothing. She didn’t budge. “Gertie! Come on!”

  Ninety-nine percent of the time, she loved the little mutt. This moment definitely fell into the one percent.

  After she broke her engagement, Jordan had the sudden urge to have a pet. A lot of people told her it would pass, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Jordan needed unconditional love in her home, so she kept her eyes open for the right opportunity. She couldn’t handle a puppy or a kitten, so when she wandered around a rescue fair one Sunday this past September, she found herself completely enamored with Gertie. A stubby-legged little mutt, Gertie was a tube of golden fur with a pointy snout and big, soulful brown eyes. She was about five years old, and her owner had just died, leaving the little dog all alone.

  Jordan felt a kinship with the pooch, and took her home that day.

  Lina Rinaldi, who usually frowned on her cottage tenants having pets, took to the dog right away, and Gertie loved the older woman right back.

  As Jordan stared at the lump still upside down on the floor, she was about ready to offer Mrs. Rinaldi full custody. Then a deep, rasping cough shook Jordan to the core. It racked her body violently, and pain shot around her chest. God, she felt awful.

  “Come on,” she said firmly to the pooch. “We’ll skip the leash this time. Out and in. Let’s get this over with.”

  Gertie rolled over and trotted to the front door, giving Jordan the side eye as she waited. Donning her parka and a pair of lined wellies that she pulled over her pajama pants, Jordan grabbed the remote and unlocked her car. When she opened the front door, she was hit by a blast of wind, rain, and sleet that stung her cheeks and chilled her to the bone. “Lord, it’s miserable.” Looking down at Gertie, she nodded. “Okay, let’s make this quick.”

  The two of them bolted outside, with Gertie heading for her favorite patch of grass and Jordan heading for her car. She stopped when she coughed so hard she could barely breathe. It hurt. She’d never had a chest cold that hurt so much. Finally, yanking open the door, she heard her pooch barking from the small covered porch. Jordan grabbed the bag that was filled with some basic food provisions, juice, tea, tissues, and a selection of over-the-counter cold remedies. She slammed the car door shut, and on her way back inside she noticed the whitecaps on Jennings Bay. The wind was forcing massive amounts of water into the coves and harbors around town, and she hoped it didn’t breach the seawall surrounding the property. Jordan’s cottage was closer to Cove Road, but the Rinaldis’ big house was at risk.
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  Without any further delay, Jordan made it back to the porch, feeling chilled and soaked to the bone despite all the foul weather gear she’d put on. Gertie was barking frantically, having positioned herself under the old wooden swing, and Jordan was starting to lose her patience.

  “Gertie, what the hell is the problem?”

  That’s when she heard the groan and crack. Jordan looked up just as a large section of an old oak tree, about fifty feet from the house, gave way. Throwing her body against the wall to avoid any debris, Jordan watched as the massive tree split in half and came crashing down, crushing her car in the process.

  If she had waited ten more seconds to head outside, Jordan would have been killed.

  Frozen in place for—she didn’t know how long—Jordan startled when a large, strong arm wrapped around her.

  She looked away from the wreckage in the front yard and into the gorgeous face of Nick Rinaldi.

  “Damn. Are you alright?”

  Was she? She wasn’t sure. Jordan tried to answer, but she had trouble catching her breath. Sucking in air, he kept her steady when they walked into the house.

  Waiting for the dog before he closed the door, Nick sat her on the bench in the entryway. Glancing in the canvas tote from the market, his brow furrowed.

  “You’re sick? What’s wrong?”

  With a low rattling cough that had him pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, she muttered, “Chest cold.”

  Shaking his head, he helped her off with her boots and jacket. “Let’s get you settled in bed, and I’ll go get my bag. You’ve got a lot more than a chest cold.”

  “My car…”

  “We can’t do anything about your car until the storm passes, so put it out of your head. It’s the last thing you need to worry about.”