He closed up the hatch, grabbed his toolbox and headed to the electrical panel. He’d been postponing a more intense inspection until he had the time and the right instruments. Now it seemed as if he had both in abundance.
He could smell jasmine in the air when he stepped into the hallway. The scent of Sienna’s skin and shampoo clung to what felt like every molecule on the boat. So much for being alone. Sienna remained all around him. He could hear her laugh and sense her presence as if she was quietly reading. He could, he supposed, pretend she was in her cabin, behind that closed door.
Irritation prickled his skin. What was wrong with him? He loved being out on the water, on his own, with only the ocean and sky as his companions. It was his refuge, his happy place. His reminder that all was right in his world. She couldn’t have replaced that peace in only a few days.
Could she?
“Not if I don’t let her,” he muttered, then started when a streak of green soared in through the open hatch. Duchess settled on the counter, talons gripping the edge of the Formica, and watched him. “What’s up, bird?”
“Squawk. Guaca-mooleee!”
Monty flipped open the metal panel and shone his flashlight on the connections. “You’re supposed to be self-sufficient. And I’m not the new guy, remember. No guacamole for you.”
“Nice flat back.”
“I can’t believe I’m spending my evening conversing with a bird.” But he did just that as he examined the wiring, replacing what he could, making note of what needed to be addressed once he was in Butterfly Harbor.
Once he was satisfied with the job, he closed the panel and faced Duchess, who had fallen asleep where she was perched. She woke up, though, when he latched his toolbox and stashed it on the floor by the cabinet.
“Guaca-moleeee.”
Monty snorted. “All right. Let’s see what we’ve got for you.” He bent down to check the refrigerator’s contents. Something inside him tugged when he noticed the vegetables had been neatly arranged into containers, with a few salads already made up. He pulled one out, a smile playing across his mouth as he read the note Sienna had left.
“Eat before junk.” Monty set the salad on the counter.
“You got this.” Duchess clicked her beak.
“Don’t worry.” He pulled out another container, popped open the lid and set it on the counter by the bird. “She didn’t forget you.” Duchess lowered her beak into the fruit-and-nut selection, then gobbled down the blueberries and cut-up strawberries one by one.
He made himself a sandwich to go with the salad, eating at the table, unable to concentrate on his book. Easily distracted, irritatingly frustrated, he carried his beer back up on deck, where he sat down to watch the end of the sunset.
Even that didn’t bring him much calm. He missed her.
Far more than he expected. Exponentially more than he wanted to. And so much that he considered turning on the engine and heading for home while it was still dark.
He wouldn’t. Not yet. As much as he wanted to see Sienna again, they needed this time apart. She needed to see what the world had to offer outside the bubble of Nana’s Dream and he needed to distance himself so that when he got back to his town, his home, it wasn’t tainted by memories of her.
Things would be different once he got to town. As welcoming as Butterfly Harbor was, the novelty and shininess would wear off for her soon enough. A woman who had seen so much of the world wouldn’t be content in his little corner of it.
One of those lies Frankie predicted he’d tell himself, Monty supposed. But it was one he could live with. It would soften the blow for whatever was going to happen.
He settled in on the deck of Dream, sipping his beer, Duchess perched on the railing beside him, and drifted off to sleep beneath the rising moon.
And dreamed of going home to Sienna.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“NANA, YOU ARE most definitely looking out for me.” Sienna stood at the giant window in her room at the Flutterby Inn admiring the ocean in all its sun-setting glory. She’d thought that first morning she’d awoken on Dream had been the start of something new, but she’d been wrong. Today, this moment, watching the end of her first day in Butterfly Harbor, was her new life starting.
She’d stayed in countless hotels and inns all over the world, most of them the best money could buy. But few had the cozy, homey atmosphere of the Flutterby Inn. The beacon of Butterfly Harbor was the perfect mix of old-fashioned hospitality outfitted with all the markings of a contemporary, comfortable escape.
Sienna unlatched and pushed open the window, then stretched as the cool evening air hit her. There was so much she wanted to see tomorrow, so many people to meet and talk with. She had a two-page list that had to be dealt with before Frankie left for her conference or, more importantly, felt more at ease.
But first, she had to make a call.
She picked up the pay-as-you-go cell phone she’d bought at one of the stores after lunch and made the only call she could think of to get her life back on track. Her hands trembled as she dialed. And waited.
“Hello?”
“Tabitha? It’s Sienna. I’m sorry if I’m calling during dinner.”
“Sienna?” Her cousin shrieked so loud Sienna had to hold her phone away from her ear. “Where are you? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“Tab, I’m fine.” To prove it to herself, she leaned against the window frame and continued to look out at the ocean. “I promise. I haven’t been kidnapped or any of those ridiculous claims they ran in the paper. I am safe and sound.” More importantly, she was happy.
“But your father...” Tabitha trailed off. “If you aren’t in any trouble, why would he tell us—?”
“To save Richard any embarrassment, I’m sure,” Sienna said. “And before you say anything, I know I shouldn’t have handled things the way I did. Running away like that was wrong. I just... I couldn’t breathe, Tab. Marrying Richard wasn’t the right thing to do. I don’t love him.” She didn’t much like him, either. When Tabitha remained silent, Sienna took a deep breath. “You don’t understand, do you?”
“No,” Tabitha said, as if coming out of a trance. “I don’t.”
“Well, the good news is, you don’t have to.” Sienna was determined to keep this conversation positive.
“If everything’s fine, why are you calling me?”
“Because I’m hoping you’ll do me a favor. I need a few things from my house, including my purse and cell phone. Can you overnight them to me if I give you an address?”
“Sure, yes. I guess. But...” She trailed off again, as if distracted.
“Tab? Is everything okay?” When Sienna heard what she thought were other voices in the background, she could have kicked herself. “Are you alone, Tabitha? Or is someone there with you?”
Another delay. “No, I’m here. What all do you want me to send you?”
Sienna told her the items, then added the Flutterby’s address. “One more favor, Tab?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Please don’t tell anyone where I am. I’m not ready to see people, especially Richard or my father. It’s important, Tab. Promise me you won’t tell.” When Tabitha didn’t answer, Sienna pushed harder. “Tabitha? Please.”
“All right. You swear you’re all right? That man didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“Monty could never hurt anyone,” Sienna assured her. “In fact, if it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I’d know which end was up. I’ll be back in San Diego soon. In time for my birthday.”
“In time to claim your inheritance,” Tabitha said with her usual touch of disdain. Sienna didn’t have time for Tabitha’s attitude. “I guess I’ll see you then. I’ll get this stuff sent out in the morning.”
“Thanks, Tab. You’re a lifesaver. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.�
�� Tabitha clicked off before Sienna could.
“Strange, that cousin of mine,” she whispered at her phone before she headed into the bathroom to change for bed.
* * *
“I BROUGHT YOU a surprise.” On time the next morning for their appointment, Sienna held up a pink bakery box to show Ezzie.
She’d found the town’s oldest Victorian home as easily as expected thanks to the morning desk receptionist. Willa McNeill gave excellent directions. The added bonus of a walk up and down the side streets of town only elevated Sienna’s already cheery mood. It was an architectural fan’s dream with a variety of design structures mingling among one another. One of her favorite houses was most definitely the bright yellow English-inspired cottage with a large carved wooden door and a stained glass window of a monarch butterfly above it.
Her morning had gotten off to a brilliant start when she’d met chef Jason Corwin at breakfast at the inn. Their quick discussion about the catering for Frankie’s wedding was a good intro and an excellent first step in getting her wedding ducks in a row.
She’d even made Chef Corwin blush with her fangirling, something that had delighted his sweet and very pregnant wife to no end. Abby Corwin, the manager of the Flutterby, was anxious to hear if the inn had met Sienna’s expectations. Sienna had been thrilled to let her know they’d been exceeded. Monty hadn’t been wrong. His town was charming, as were the people who lived here.
As positive a start as she’d had, even more progress was made at the Chrysalis Bakery. Hence the box in her hand.
Standing on the front porch of the home of the infamous Cocoon Club, Sienna’s smile grew brighter when Ezzie looked suspiciously at the box. “You didn’t have to bring anything, Sienna.” Ezzie stepped back and waved her inside. “I’ve taken care of breakfast, remember?”
“Oh, this isn’t breakfast.” She lowered her voice and glided the box in front of Ezzie’s nose. “It’s a wedding cake sample.”
“It is not!” Ezzie gasped. She reached for the box, but Sienna snatched it away. “How’d you ever do it? I’ve been begging Gale to tell me what she had planned for weeks!”
“So I heard,” Sienna said with a sly grin. “I’ll just say I can be very persuasive when I need to be. Oh, hello.” As she looked down the hall, she spotted two women, both on the far side of seventy, with curious albeit suspicious gazes pinned on her.
The clomp, clomp behind her was accompanied by the distinctive sound of a rubber-footed and squeaky-wheeled walker. She shifted and smiled at the elderly stooped man standing behind her. “And hello to you, as well.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed as he moved closer. He inched up his chin so he could see into her face. “You’d be this runaway bride we’ve heard about then?”
Sienna’s face went hot. “Um.”
“Oscar, behave yourself,” Ezzie ordered and patted him on the shoulder. “Oscar Bedemeyer, this is Sienna Fairchild. And you know very well she’s helping Frankie with her wedding.”
“What was wrong with the groom?” One of the women came forward, her bright orange hair striking a match of color in the room. “He some kind of doofus?”
How did she answer that? “Ah, not really.”
“All of you, behave,” Ezzie ordered, only to be interrupted by the whizzing of a wheelchair exploding out of one of the side rooms. “Alice, now remember your speed limit!”
Alice brought her wheelchair to a screeching halt right at Sienna’s toes. Alice’s slight frame shook with what Sienna recognized as Parkinson’s tremors. “It’s nice to meet you, Alice. Oscar.” She nodded to each, then to the redheaded woman. “And you are?”
“Myra. This is Eloise,” she said and pointed to the woman behind her. “And that’s Harold. Over there’s Elliot and Penny. You can remember her because of her big boo—”
“All right, that’s enough,” Ezzie called over her shoulder. “Sienna, you can join me in here. We have work to do,” she told the others. “Interrogation may commence once we’re done.”
“Interrogation?” Sienna swallowed hard and clutched her bakery box to her chest. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, I’m sure.”
“I’m betting he was a doofus,” Myra declared and led the others away. “Come on, Alice. Your speedway awaits! Ezzie, we’re going to take our morning constitutional.”
Alice gave Sienna a shaky smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Sienna stepped back so Alice could join the rest of her group as they put on their jackets and scarves. Not that they needed them. The weather had been nice enough for Sienna to leave her sweater back at the inn. When the door closed behind her and Ezzie, she breathed an unexpected sigh of relief.
“They’re exhausting, I know.” Ezzie waved her forward. “Come on. We’ve got work to do. And you have an escape to make. They won’t return until close to eleven. They’re going to the diner for breakfast.”
“On their own? Are they—?”
“One thing you never tell the Cocoon Club is that they’re too old to do anything. If they can’t make the walk back, Holly will call me and I’ll run down in the van. Now.” She clapped her hands together and licked her lips. “Let’s open that box and see what Frankie and Roman are getting for their cake.”
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU mean all my accounts have been frozen?” It took all of Sienna’s control not to yell at the bank manager on the other end of the call.
After a productive morning that had her marking off half her to-do list, she’d picked up lunch from the diner and headed to the marina. Catering, check. Cake, double check. Seating arrangements, in progress, and in Ezzie’s capable hands since she was better acquainted with the residents than Sienna. The confusion about the cost of the rental tables and chairs had been remedied, but she still had to confirm a schedule with the linen suppliers and the backup tents in case of rain. She also needed to check in with city hall to verify the park had been blocked out for the wedding and any permits they might need were securely in place. After that, it was the little stuff, including helping a still flu-ridden Brooke Evans with the upcoming bridal shower in a few days. Frankie Bettencourt’s wedding, it seemed, was coming along great.
Just as Sienna’s life continued to fall apart.
She’d hoped for peace and quiet out by the water and instead was becoming a noise hazard herself. “Who authorized freezing my bank accounts?”
“It was by court order, Ms. Fairchild.”
Sienna could tell by the way the bank manager said her name he wasn’t entirely convinced that’s whom he was speaking to. “Well, unfreeze them.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am. Not until we have an order reversing the request.”
“I’m the only one on the accounts,” Sienna insisted. “How can anyone have the authority to...?” The thoughts spinning through her mind came to a skidding halt. “My father.” The kidnapping report in the paper suddenly made so much more sense. “Okay. Okay.” She took a cleansing breath, pinched her nose and stepped to the side as she spotted Mrs. Yamishimi headed in her direction. “Tell me this. No one else has been given access to the account, have they?”
“I’m afraid I’m not able to discuss this matter except in person.”
“Oh, for the love of frogs, it’s me. You’re talking to me. Me. Sienna Fairchild.” She rattled off her personal information much to the disapproval of Mrs. Yamishimi, who seemed apparently in no hurry to get home. “You’re telling me you can’t discuss my own account with me?”
“Not at this time, ma’am. Not without visual confirmation of your identity. Or a certified letter from your legal representative. You may call back once you have all that lined up.”
Sienna let out a growl and stomped her feet as the line went dead. Just as her independence had started taking shape, she had the financial doors slammed in her face. Her father. Again. Why was he so det
ermined to keep her in check now?
Now, when she wanted to be able to at least pay back Monty for the expenses he’d incurred since she’d stowed away on his boat. She didn’t like the idea of being beholden to anyone, let alone someone...
“Oh, boy.” Let alone someone she’d fallen in love with. “Why, oh, why do I always have the absolute worst timing on the planet?” She pressed a hand to her cheek and faced the only person nearby. Mrs. Yamishimi. The Asian woman with silver-streaked dark hair tilted her head and offered an understanding smile. Mrs. Yamishimi patted the paper bag in her hand. “Come with me. We’ll have tea.”
“Oh, no, thank you, but I can’t. I have—” Errands to run. People to meet. And she needed to catch up with Frankie before dinner and give her an update.
“You have time to accept that which you’re afraid of. Come along.” With her bright white athletic shoes, baggy sweatpants and matching pink hoodie, she headed down the curving road to the private residences located at the marina. “Come, come.”
As if caught under some spell, Sienna did as she was told and soon found herself enchanted once again by the sight of the houseboat Mrs. Yamishimi called home. “It really does look like a house.”
“My late father-in-law designed and built it for a wedding gift for myself and my husband. Shoes off, please.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Inside the sliding glass door, she quickly slipped out of her shoes. The two-story structure was both spacious and cozy, with several windows to allow for a generous amount of natural light. Decorated in soft creams and grays, there wasn’t a lot of furniture that wasn’t serviceable, and it was all practical and neatly arranged. Clutter was kept to a minimum and the framed photographs along one shelf depicted a full life well lived. A collection of potted orchids lined a narrow path between the entryway and kitchen.
“Tea is already steeping,” Mrs. Yamishimi told her as Sienna wound her way into the kitchen.
She stopped almost immediately, transfixed by the view in front of her. The entire back of the house was glass. A sliding door was the only break and led out to the lush patio Sienna had seen from the Phoenix yesterday. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked them back.
Bride on the Run--A Clean Romance Page 17