Lighthouse Cove (South Carolina Sunsets Book 7)

by Rachel Hanna

  Lighthouse Cove

  Rachel Hanna

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Foreword

  Thank you for reading the South Carolina Sunsets series! This is book 7, but you will find a link to the next book in the back of this one. Hope you enjoy Lighthouse Cove!

  Chapter 1

  Dixie stepped back and looked at her masterpiece. “Well, this is just about the best book display I’ve ever seen, don’t you think?” She proudly held out her arms and looked at Julie, who was thumbing through the latest gardening magazine they’d gotten in at the store.

  “It’s a sight to behold,” she said, laughing. Julie walked over and picked up one of the books. “Who is this author, anyway?”

  “Charlotte McLemore. Haven’t you heard of her? She’s the biggest thing since my hair in the nineties!” Dixie cackled at her own joke, slapping her leg which was adorned with a pair of bright pink capri pants.

  Spring had sprung, and that meant Dixie’s clothing would get more flamboyant by the day. She loved hot weather, not that it ever got overly cold in the lowcountry. At nighttime, it dipped down into the thirties at times, but daytime temps in winter were usually in the sixties. Still, Dixie didn’t break out her craziest clothing until the temperatures warmed up substantially.

  “I haven’t heard of her, but then I’ve been focused on helping Meg plan the wedding. I didn’t realize how much work it would be!”

  “Can I help you do anything?”

  Julie waved her hand. “Nope. Not a thing. You’re busy enough working here and taking care of your husband. How’s he doing, by the way?”

  Harry had wrenched his back trying to dig a garden in their backyard. “Oh, he’ll be fine. Doc says he just needs to take it easy and stop acting like he’s twenty-five again.”

  Julie smiled. “Is that what I have to look forward to with Dawson in a few years?”

  Dixie sat down on the high stool she had placed near her. “Oh, sugar, they get worse as they get older. Always trying to do things that they should hire someone else to do. And Harry is just as stubborn as a mule!”

  “Um, I think you might be similar in that regard.”

  Dixie laughed. “Yes, but I can do everything!”

  The truth was, Dixie had Parkinson’s disease. While she was getting on fine so far thanks to great medications and physical therapy, there was always the reality looming that she and Harry would start to progress more quickly and be unable to care for themselves. It was something Julie thought about a lot, and she’d even spoken to William about it once or twice. Each and every one of them watched Dixie like a hawk, looking for any signs that she wasn’t doing well. So far, though, she was still as spry as ever.

  “Knock, knock,” SuAnn said as she walked into the bookstore. Even though the door chimed, Julie’s mother insisted on saying knock knock every time she came into the store.

  “Hey, Mom,” Julie said, waving from the back wall.

  “What are y’all doing back here?”

  “Setting up a new Charlotte McLemore display,” Dixie said.

  “Oh, I love her books! Have you read her latest one with the magnolia flower on the cover?” SuAnn asked, excited. Julie had never known her mother to be a reader.

  “Since when do you read?”

  “Oh, dear, you can’t help it if you ever read one of her books. She will draw you right in with her emotional stories, and they all have a little mystery too.”

  “They really are good, Julie. You should read one,” Dixie said, reaching over to hand her a book.

  Julie laughed and held up her hand. “Do y’all understand that I’m planning a wedding, running an inn, working here, raising a new son and helping to plan Meg’s wedding? I have no time to read!”

  Dixie nodded. “You’re right. There is a lot on your plate. Why don’t you let us help you? I can make phone calls or watch Dylan…”

  Julie rubbed her arm. “Thank you. And I may take you up on that soon.”

  “And seeing as how I am Meg’s grandmother, it would be nice if you’d let me help with something too,” SuAnn said, her voice giving Julie the distinct impression that she was feeling left out.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. Meg wants to have a dessert bar instead of a big cake. She wondered if you’d make a variety of desserts?”

  “Of course. I’ll work on a menu.”

  “Thanks. So, what’s going on with you today?”

  “Well, I came to tell you the latest gossip.”

  “Oh, do tell,” Julie said, pretending to be overly interested. Actually, she was a little curious.

  “Well, Darcy heard from her friend Avery that there’s a new lighthouse keeper.”

  “Lighthouse keeper? That place has been closed down for years,” Dixie said.

  “Well, apparently the county has restored it, and they hired someone to live in that little house next to it. They’re going to be starting tours and opening a little gift shop. Whoever this mystery person is will be running all of that.”

  “That’s great! Anything that brings more tourists,” Julie said.

  “Well, I just hope the person is decent and not some troublemaker who will wreak havoc in our beloved town,” SuAnn said.

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, let’s not have any troublemakers move here, Mom.”

  SuAnn tossed a magazine at her as they all laughed.

  As she stood there, staring up at the tall black and white lighthouse, she wondered if she was up to this task. The last few months had taken a toll on her in a way she couldn’t really describe in words, and it wasn’t often that her words failed her.

  She stepped out of her small, compact car and shut the door. Surprisingly, it had gotten her here all the way from Nashville, although there was that moment near Knoxville where she thought the wheel might pop off. Thankfully, it turned out to be a pothole in the road, but it sure gave her quite a shock.

  Emma Mackenzie had spent her life taking care of people, first her sick mother and then her dysfunctional grandmother. Now, she was responsible for this huge lighthouse, and it would be impossible to hide her imperfections when she was the one guiding strangers through the tall building day after day.

  Sure, she could’ve said no to this job, but when her old friend had told her about it, she’d been intrigued. After all, her previous line of work was nothing like this. Every day had been stressful and full of adrenaline. Surely, walking people through a lighthouse would be a cakewalk compared to that.

  Never mind that she knew next to nothing about lighthouses, except what she’d learned watching YouTube videos and grilling her old friend. Paul had been a buddy of hers in high school, and when he’d heard about her recent situation, he’d been the first to step up with the opportunity. He lived in Atlanta now, working as a headhunter mostly for the tech industry, but he had connections in Seagrove and one thing had led to another.

  After meetings with the county, mostly virtual, she’d been hired. A part of her was scared a bit, but the larger part of her was grateful to get away from regular life. Escaping to a small island that nobody had even heard of made her feel safer than she had in years.

  When she looked at the ocean, it reminded her of her mother. She’d passed away almost ten years ago now, but Emma would’ve given anything to have one more day wi
th her. She so loved the ocean. They went on beach vacations a lot when she was a kid, even though her mother was working two jobs just to pay for things like that. Having never had a father in her life, Emma had counted on her mom. Although she’d been in her late twenties when her mom was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer, it hadn’t made it any easier. She needed her, even now, at forty years old.

  She had especially needed her when she had to step up and take care of her grandmother. The woman had been impossible to deal with for most of her life, and being responsible for her after her own mother had passed away almost destroyed her. In the end, a stroke in her sleep had taken her, but not before she’d taken just about everything out of Emma. That was already a year ago. How time flew.

  “Oh good! You made it!”

  A woman walked toward her, a smile on her face. She looked overly made up for the area, and her hair was so high that it looked like cotton candy piled on her head.

  “Yes. Sorry I’m a little late. There was traffic coming through Charleston.”

  She waved her hand. “No problem. We don’t really follow time too closely around here. I’m Henrietta. We spoke on the phone?”

  Emma nodded. “Oh, yes. Nice to meet you.”

  “Why don’t you follow me, and I’ll show you to your new home.”

  Before Emma could respond, Henrietta was high-tailing it down the gravel driveway toward a small cottage. She quickly followed behind her, a trail of small pebbles popping up under Henrietta’s chunky high-heels.

  The cottage was nice enough from the outside. It was brick painted white and mainly just a little square building. Nothing fancy, but that was okay. The simpler the better as far as Emma was concerned. Her life had been far too complicated for too long. She needed air and space and calmness.

  Henrietta keyed the door and opened it, standing back so Emma could walk inside first. She was surprised at just how nice it was. They had obviously redecorated the place recently as it had a farmhouse look to it with whitewashed walls and distressed wood floors. Emma was pleasantly surprised.

  “It’s very cute.”

  “Isn’t it? Just adorable. Now, there’s one bedroom, one bathroom, living room and kitchen. All the basics.”

  “Great.”

  “The kitchen has been stocked with pots and pans and so forth. We did a small grocery run just so you’d have some stuff here. Milk, eggs, those kinds of things.”

  “Sounds like you thought of everything.”

  “We try. Well, here’s your keys.” She handed Emma a small keyring, her big pink nails almost scratching Emma’s finger. “Now, Roger will contact you tomorrow about doing a lighthouse walkthrough. We have a whole script you can use for the tours, and those won’t start for another week or so.”

  “Got it.”

  “Better run. I’m meeting my friend, SuAnn for lunch. She owns the bakery over the bridge. You might want to try it some time. The best poundcake you’ve ever put in your mouth!”

  Emma forced a smile. She was too tired to care about poundcake right now. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  As she watched Henrietta drive away, she wondered if she’d made the right decision coming to Seagrove. The town seemed nice enough, but was she ready to finally look at her life and deal with everything that had happened in the last year?

  “I don’t understand this…” Dylan groaned as he stared at his math worksheet, He laid his forehead on the paper and sighed. “Can’t I just quit school and work for you?”

  Dawson chuckled. Although he did need help around the inn, it probably wasn’t the best idea to let his nine-year-old son quit school. “No, buddy. You need to finish school so you can become something important like a doctor.”

  Dylan looked at him. “I don’t want to be a doctor.”

  “What do you want to be then?”

  “I want to be a race car driver and a chef.”

  Dawson smiled. “You can do anything you want to do, Dylan. But first, you have to master third grade math.”

  Dylan sighed. “Can I take a break?”

  He’d been at it for over an hour, so Dawson agreed. “Sure. Why don’t you go help Lucy fix dinner? I’m sure she could use the help.”

  Without missing a beat, Dylan trotted off to the kitchen. Dawson loved being a dad. Dylan was everything he’d ever wanted in a son, and each day with him was like learning something new. Watching him take in the world around him, discover new things and experience so much joy made Dawson feel so happy.

  “Where’s the kiddo?” Julie asked as she walked into the dining room. She’d been working long hours lately, trying to manage the bookstore and planning Meg’s wedding. Each time he’d offered help, she’d declined, not wanting to put anybody out. That was his wife. She tried to do it all, and eventually she’d realize she couldn’t. He was just waiting for that moment so he could swoop in and help her. It was their pattern, and he’d grown to expect it and love it.

  Dawson hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Math overcame him, so he’s helping Lucy with dinner.”

  Julie laughed. “Math does that to me too.”

  “Ditto.”

  She looked up at him. “And how is my handsome husband this evening?”

  “He was missing his wife, but he’s all good now.”

  “Good. What’s for dinner?” she asked as she walked over to the chair and sat down, dropping her purse strap over the back of it.

  “Lucy said we’re having meatloaf, mashed potatoes and salad tonight.”

  “Yum. That should hit the spot after a long day.”

  “Was the store busy?”

  “Getting busier now that tourists are arriving. Spring has officially sprung.”

  “Yeah, bookings are up too. We got three new ones today alone. Of course, those aren’t coming until June.”

  She smiled, tiredly. “I’m glad people are booking, though. Gotta keep this place full.”

  He nodded. “True.”

  “Mommy!” Dylan said, running out of the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her. Dawson loved watching their interactions. Even when Julie was tired, she always had energy for their son. It was often hard to imagine what life was like before he was a father. These moments, small and often lost on others, meant the world to him after losing his first child. He thought he’d lost his opportunity to be a dad, but then God had stepped up and given him something more amazing than he’d ever expected - a family of his own.

  “Hey, buddy! How was school today?”

  Dylan grumbled. “Third grade is impossible, Mom.”

  She looked up at Dawson, stifling a laugh. “Is that so?”

  He stood up and sat in the chair next to her. “We had three math worksheets for homework tonight. Can you believe that?”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of work, but I know you’re so smart that you’ll knock that right out.”

  He looked at her for a moment. “I guess so.”

  “And I told him if he finishes, he gets cherry cobbler after dinner,” Lucy said, breezing into the dining room with a bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a pitcher of gravy in the other. If there was one thing Lucy could make well, it was her homemade gravy. Dawson had loved it for years, and he’d asked her for the recipe many times. She always said that it was her job security and she’d only leave to him in her will.

  “Yum… cherry cobbler….” Dylan said, rubbing his stomach. Dawson often looked at his energetic son and wondered what his life had really been like before they adopted him. What had he seen? What had he experienced? He couldn’t think about it for long without his blood pressure rising and his eyes filling with tears.

  Lucy brought the rest of the food to the table as everyone got settled into their chairs. This was Dawson’s favorite time of day, when his family was all there together.

  “So, how was the bookstore today?” Dawson asked.

  “It was busy. Dixie was very excited about this author’s books and set up a big display.
Almost takes up the whole front entrance,” Julie said with a laugh.

  “Which author?” Lucy asked as she placed a cloth napkin in her lap.

  “Charlotte McLemore.”

  Lucy smiled and clapped her hands. “Oh, she’s my favorite! Her books have so much emotion that you end up staying awake all night to read them!”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “So, what else?”

  “Mom came to the store today,” Julie said as she took a sip of her tea.

  “Uh oh. What’s my mother-in-law up to now?” Dawson asked, smiling. SuAnn was a loose cannon, for sure. Sometimes she was as sweet as sugar, but she could cut you really quickly with her words and actions. He found it was best to stay in her good graces and keep himself out of the line of fire if he could. So far, that had worked well.

  “She needed to tell us the latest gossip that we have a new resident in town who will be running the lighthouse now that renovations are complete. There will be tours and everything.”

  Dawson had been in the lighthouse many times having grown up on the island. It sat at the tip of the island and had long since been out of commission, but seeing it repaired and working again was a good thing in his mind. Still, any time someone new moved to their little paradise, everyone worried. Would the person be a problem? Would they get along with everyone? Would they be a contributing member of the community or take away from the culture there?

  “Do we know who it is?”

  “Nope. My detective of a mother had shockingly little information. I’m sure she’ll dig something up soon like the bloodhound that she is,” Julie said, laughing as she scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

  “Oh, you can bet on that.”

  Chapter 2