by Hope Ramsay
The weather didn’t deter Jenna from her plan to corner Patsy at church. She wanted to ask her aunt so many questions about her father, and Patsy would be a much better source of information than Louella Pender. Jenna had a feeling Louella might be guilty of embellishing her stories.
Jenna didn’t for one minute think her father had committed suicide. There were lots of easier ways to end a life than taking a boat out into dangerous waters and drowning yourself. And murder seemed overly dramatic and far-fetched.
More important, even though Jenna had limited sailing experience, she could see dozens of scenarios where someone might not put on their PFD or someone would take it off the way she’d done in order to escape the capsizing boat when Jude’s hiking strap had broken. Jude had also demonstrated that falling out of a boat was entirely possible. And sailboats didn’t have brakes. You could fall out of a boat, and it would continue sailing for a while.
All the unanswered questions remained, so she pulled out her once-new Gore-Tex rain jacket and headed off to church.
The Church at Heavenly Rest occupied a spot south of Magnolia Harbor’s business district. It sat back from Ash Street in a grove of pines and live oaks, hidden from view by long trails of Spanish moss. Only a few blades of coarse grass clung to life in the sandy churchyard. The church itself was made of wood and painted white. It was, in almost every way, the antithesis of the Methodist Church, where the town council meeting had been held. And yet it too carried a medallion indicating that it was on the National Register of Historic Places.
Inside, she discovered why. Stained-glass windows in deep jewel tones colored the light. The intricately carved oak pews and altar screen had been polished to a high sheen, and two brass vases of casually arranged brown-eyed Susans sat on the altar. This was a holy place. She could almost feel the history inside the little church. People had been worshipping here for generations.
Jenna sat in the back pew, drawing a few stares from the locals as she waited for Patsy to show up. But she waited in vain. In fact, very few worshippers came out on this rainy Sunday. Maybe twenty people showed up, and the minister, a rotund man with a pink face and a bald head, gave a sermon on Christian faith that went way over Jenna’s head.
Clearly this guy was not the new minister everyone in town was talking about.
She hung out for a few minutes after the service and introduced herself to the curious parishioners as a tourist. In fifteen minutes, she heard enough gossip to know that the new minister was expected sometime next week, that he was Jude’s older brother, and that the Altar Guild had gone to the vicarage to clean and prepare for the new holy man only to discover that it was a bigger job than they had anticipated. There was some serious angst that the new minister would be put out by the quality of his living conditions.
As for Patsy, she was apparently under the weather today.
It was frustrating to think that she’d have to wait a whole week before trying again. After listening to Louella, she wasn’t going to try to gate-crash the Piece Makers meeting a second time.
She headed back toward Rose Cottage, but as she started down Harbor Drive, another band of heavy rain moved in. Driven by a stiff wind, the rain fell sideways, right into her face. She was just thinking that maybe she should turn around and seek shelter at Bread, Butter, and Beans when a light in the window of Barrier Island Charters caught her eye. And like a lighthouse on a stormy day, it drew her closer.
Jude was working on Sunday?
Well, come to think of it, Jude probably worked most weekends, especially when the weather was good. She followed the light to his office door. And suddenly her lonely day didn’t seem so lonely anymore. Maybe she could take Jude out for lunch and find out why he was annoyed at her. And he probably didn’t have much to do today either, since it was raining.
She peeked between the fishing photos taped to the windows and saw Jude sitting at a computer, the blue light limning his face. She tried the door. It was locked. So maybe he was just getting paperwork done. It was raining like hell out here.
Maybe she could distract him from his chores.
She knocked as hard as she could.
He looked up, his brow furrowing the moment he saw her. Yup, he was annoyed at her for some reason. Or maybe he was just a grumpy guy who didn’t like people much.
No. That wasn’t right. He had friends. He ran a charter business. She’d seen him schmoozing the town council in support of his petition. He wasn’t a grumpy guy.
He just didn’t like her for some reason. Which was sad, because she admired him.
He came to the door and opened it. “What are you doing out in this weather?”
“Going to church.”
He blinked a moment, as if the idea of her going to church was absurd, and then he ducked down and peered through the door at the rain. “You’d better come on inside before you drown.”
She stepped through the door, dripping onto the linoleum floor as she slipped out of her soggy jacket. “So, you’re working today?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Paying bills, and thanks to you and your sailing lessons, I can actually cover the rent this month.”
He didn’t say this to be funny or sarcastic, she realized. His words made her stop and look around the small storefront office. It was dusty and needed paint. The photos on the window had curled. The fish clock on the wall looked like something from a redneck decorator’s dream. Nothing about this place said success. And that was odd, because everything about Jude told her he was a successful person with a lot going for him.
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” she said, thinking there were other things she could help him with. Like a full rebranding of the business and an advertising strategy. She’d already noticed that Barrier Island Charters didn’t advertise in the guidebook or on the Jonquil Island tourist map that every merchant on Harbor Drive handed out. But she kept her mouth shut.
“Are you really glad?” he asked, leaning back on his computer desk, eyeing the puddle on the floor that was forming as her soaked clothes dripped.
She put her hands on her hips. “Okay, I get it. You don’t like me. But I don’t know why. I also realize that on Friday you made the whole capsize lesson ten times harder, and more expensive, than it needed to be. But here’s the thing. I’m glad you put me through it.”
His mouth twitched, and his amber eyes narrowed on her, setting off a wave of reaction that was not entirely unexpected. He was beautiful to look at. “I don’t dislike you,” he said.
“Okay, then what?”
“I don’t trust you. It’s a big difference.”
“You don’t trust me? For heaven’s sake, why?”
“Because you paid fifteen hundred dollars for four hours in a sailboat. You showed up at the town council hearing. And you specifically sought me out for these lessons. Why?”
Heat crawled up her face. He was onto her, and if she told him the truth, he’d probably run right to Harry and blab his mouth. She needed to think up a story fast.
“Maybe I just like you. A lot,” she said. This had the benefit of being the truth, but saying it out loud was almost like hopping from the frying pan into the fire.
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And besides, if you think I’m about to back down on the things I believe in just because a pretty woman comes onto me, you need to think again.”
“Uh…Wait. You think I’m pretty?”
He rolled his beautiful eyes. “Do not play innocent, okay? Greg wants me to play along with you, but I’m just not built that way. So, look here. I can’t be bought off. And I’m going fight you every step of the way if you try to convince my brothers to sell that land out from under me. You got that?”
“Wait a sec. Who do you think I am?”
He stood up and got right in her face. “You’re working for Santee Resorts. They sent you here to befriend me or befuddle me or to get me to say something about my family they c
an use. But here’s the thing. I’m not changing my mind. And even if the town council votes down my petition, y’all are going to have a big fight getting my land away from me and my family.”
His voice rang out with a righteous indignation that made her insides quiver. Here was a man who wouldn’t be swayed, and it was sexy as hell.
So, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard. Right on the lips.
Chapter Eight
Holy crap, her lips were warm, and she smelled like honeysuckle, which made sense since her hair was the color of honey, and it took all his restraint not to run his hands up into that wet, windblown crown and fall all the way into the kiss.
Damn.
Everything he’d just avowed was probably a lie. The truth was that Jenna had gotten down into him somehow. For the last thirty-six hours, she’d been on his mind. Confusing his thoughts. Making him wonder why she hadn’t complained after the sixth dunking. Why she’d been such a good sport. Why he wanted to go sailing with her again. And maybe not even charge her for the privilege.
Those bastards at Santee Resorts knew what the hell they were doing. So he took her by the shoulders and set her back. Gently. His mouth still hungry for her.
“You’ve got me all wrong,” she said. “I’m not working for that resort company.”
“Right. So that explains why you were at the town council meeting.”
Her cheeks colored. “I went there because the issue sounded interesting.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She blew out a sigh that telegraphed her frustration. “Look, here’s the truth. I’m from Boston. My grandfather was a super-rich guy, and he left me a lot of money. So much money I’m never going to be able to spend it all. It’s all in a trust fund, but my allowance is enough for anyone to live comfortably on. So I don’t care how much you charge for lessons.”
“You’re a trust fund girl?” He swept his gaze over her, trying to jibe her rubber flip-flops with his preconceived notion of rich girls from Boston. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why? Because I don’t flaunt my wealth? Except, oh yes, I did, by spending a ridiculous amount on sailing lessons. And if you want to know why I picked you, it was because you were competent, and I think competent is sexy.”
Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as she said this.
“So, you…”
“I wanted sailing lessons from someone I found attractive.”
“That doesn’t explain your presence at a boring town hall meeting.”
Her gaze shifted, a clear indication that she wasn’t telling the truth. “Maybe I wasn’t bored. Maybe I was interested in history. Maybe I—”
“Work for Santee Resorts.”
She laughed. “No, that’s not right. I had good reasons for being at the hearing, Jude, but I swear on all that’s sacred, I do not work for Santee Resorts. And I’m a Buddhist of sorts, so swearing an untruth is sure to unload a crap-ton of bad karma on me. So—”
“You’re a Buddhist, but you went to church?” He had her dead to rights, and her cheeks flamed again.
“I went to church because the guidebook said that the stained-glass windows at Heavenly Rest were worth seeing.”
Well, damn. She had him there. The guidebook did say that. And the only time you could get into the church was on Sunday since the church had been without a rector for months. Without anything else to call her on, he turned to the obvious.
“So, you kissed me because…?”
“I’m here on vacation. And you are my sexy sailing instructor. Does it have to be more complicated than that? And, by the way, I’d still like to buy you lunch.”
He stood there trying to decide if Jenna Fairchild was a professional liar or a flighty trust fund girl. Neither label seemed to fit.
He didn’t trust her, but if she was willing to pay him five hundred dollars an hour for sailing lessons, then maybe he should go with the flow for once. If she was a tourist, she’d leave in a week or two, and he’d be able to cover a few bills he’d been worried about.
If she was working for Santee Resorts, at least he’d cleared the air. He could decide not to talk about his petition or the land. Or, what the hell, he could try to sway her. Make her see his point of view.
Not that he expected someone like her to understand it.
“I can see the wheels turning in your mind,” she said. “I promise you, I’m not trying to take your land. In fact, I’d be honored if you’d take me out to ‘Gullah Town’ sometime and show me around.”
“See, now, that’s the sort of thing that makes me mistrust you. And besides, you shouldn’t call it that. ‘Gullah Town’ is the name the white folks gave to the place when they moved in here. Except for a few folks, like the Howlands and the Martins who built summer places here before the Civil War, this island was mostly settled by black folks. And we were left alone until they built the bridge.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And why does my interest in the land of your ancestors make you suspicious of me?”
“Because it’s a temptation. It makes me think I can change your point of view. But that’s a fallacy. If you’re working for them, I’ll never change your mind.”
“And if I’m not?”
He shrugged.
“Okay, then. Don’t take me out to there and show me around.”
Why did that disappoint him? He suddenly wanted to take her there.
“But there’s nothing that says I can’t take you to lunch,” she said before he could muster a comeback line.
Did he want to go to lunch with her? Hell yeah. After that kiss he’d like to do a lot of things with her. Decisions, decisions.
She stepped closer but didn’t touch him. Just being near her seemed to make the air different. It came into his lungs charged with energy. It was hard to be rational in Jenna’s presence. Would it be so wrong to have an end-of-summer fling?
Maybe. And the reality was that he’d never figure her out if he sent her packing. Funny how he suddenly wanted to figure her out. Was she an airhead or an enemy or something else entirely? If he had to bet, he’d take door number three.
Who was she? What did she want? His gut said she hadn’t been totally honest with him. And he wanted her honesty for some unfathomable reason.
“I could do lunch,” he said.
If it hadn’t been raining, Jude would have suggested lunch at Rafferty’s because it was safe, neutral ground. But with the rain coming down in sheets, sideways, he decided to take a chance and grab lunch at Aunt Annie’s Kitchen, which was only a few doors down Harbor Drive from Barrier Island Charters.
Aunt Annie’s was one of those places where you could get hush puppies that melted in your mouth, okra, rice, and tomatoes that tasted like manna from heaven, and fried pork chops that were the quintessential comfort food. The tourists usually missed this place because Annie saw no benefit to advertising in the usual tourist outlets. She would always say that her dining room was too small already. Jude had been urging her to move into a larger space, but his cousin was cautious. Like a lot of his people, she didn’t believe in borrowing money or taking large risks.
And really, she didn’t need to because everyone who lived in Magnolia Harbor ate at Annie’s Kitchen all the time. She did a big business on Sundays after church, and it was only the rain that kept them from having to wait for a table. The aroma of fried food made Jude’s mouth water as he walked into the narrow restaurant and headed for an open booth near the front. It had been a while since he’d had one of Annie’s pork chops.
“Jude, baby. Where you been? Uncle Jeeter says you been hiding out.” Annie, dressed in a sweater, jeans, and her bright red Aunt Annie’s apron, intercepted him before he reached the table. She gave Jude a big hug before he sat down. Once he’d settled himself, she pinned him with a questioning look.
He pretended he didn’t see and turned toward Jenna with a gesture. “Annie, meet my friend Jenna Fairchild. She’s from Boston.”
“Honey, you’re gonna love the fried pork chops,” Annie continued, handing the blushing Jenna a menu. “You have never tasted anything like that up yonder. I can promise you that.” Annie turned toward Jude. “So, how you doing, baby? Folks been burning up the grapevine about your brother coming home. I also heard you were the man at the town council hearing, telling those folks what was up. I’m so proud of you, baby.”
“Thanks, and I’m fine,” he said stoically. Not that Annie would pay any mind to what he said. Annie had been sticking her nose into his business since he was a little boy. She was his first cousin and had been his babysitter once.
“Uh-huh. Not sure I believe that,” she replied with a lift of one eyebrow. “But you know, baby, sometimes the Lord moves in mysterious ways. You wait and see. I got me a feeling about things. Y’all want sweet tea?” Annie gave Jenna a questioning lift of her eyebrow.
“Um, is it possible to get the tea without the sugar?” Jenna asked like a true Yankee.
Annie chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, it is. But why y’all insist on drinking tea without sugar is one of the Lord’s greatest mysteries. I’ll be right back.” She turned and hurried off to a beverage station at the back of the house.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten one of Annie’s fried chops,” Jude said.
Jenna’s mouth twitched seductively. “Uh, well, um. . .” She glanced away, studying the famed African prints on the wall for a moment before she said, “I’m a vegetarian.”
Damn. Why was he not surprised? “You know, I should have figured that out,” he muttered.
“Why?” Her gaze landed on him, and a humorous light danced in the depths of her big brown eyes. Was she laughing at him or the situation? He didn’t know.