Rosemary Cottage

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Rosemary Cottage Page 4

by Colleen Coble


  “Mindy Stewart now.” Mindy patted her bulging belly. “I’m so glad to see you! Are you staying awhile?”

  “I am.”

  “Wonderful! I won’t have to go to the mainland to deliver.”

  Mindy’s enthusiasm warmed Amy’s heart. She smiled at the young woman. “Actually, I’m not sure I’ll be here that long. Looks like you have about a month to go?”

  Mindy popped her bubble gum and nodded. “Stay permanently. I’ll be your first patient. I’m a sheriff’s deputy now. When I lost my job as a receptionist, I decided to do something else with my life.”

  Libby moved in like a mama duck herding her young. “Amy will give you a call if she decides to start delivering babies. We’d better get going.” They walked away and entered Hopeful Kids Shop. “I think it’s a great idea to open your practice here. I don’t know what I would have done without you when Noah was born. I was so scared, and you made everything calm.” Libby smiled. “Well, as calm as childbirth can be. I was lucky you were on the island when my water broke.”

  What if she moved here? The thought tempted Amy. Living in this place was like going back in time to a happier, safer place. It would be a rewarding life. And she could get her overseeing physician on board. He’d told her for a long time that she should move to one of the places around the state that really needed her.

  She glanced around the small shop. Children’s clothing and necessities vied for space with boogie boards and souvenirs. Places like this didn’t exist on the mainland, and she loved it. She pressed her hand to her stomach. Maybe it would be a place where she could forget the past.

  She smiled. “Hope Beach is more than home. It’s a haven. It always has been. And I see the need here. Most women have to go to Kill Devil Hills or the mainland in the last couple of weeks before giving birth. Taking the ferry once labor starts isn’t a good option.”

  Libby shifted Noah to the other arm. “We do need you here. As a midwife and a healer.”

  Amy had heard this before, and she didn’t deny it was true. Somehow she just knew what people needed. She could listen to a tale of pain and sickness and know what was wrong. And Libby had spoken the truth—it was a gift. No training or anything Amy could point to had given her the intuition she possessed.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Libby’s brows rose. “You’ve decided to do it, just like that?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since I got here. I’m wondering why I didn’t think of doing it sooner.” It would take more than a couple of weeks to figure out what had happened to Ben. And she felt closer to him here, the memories precious.

  Libby helped Noah find his thumb. “What do you need to get going? How can I help?”

  “I just have to send for my things. I can use the downstairs study as an examination room so I won’t need an office. I’ll need to get my herb garden planted for my tinctures.” She had to curb her excitement or she would turn around and head for the feed store right now to get that garden going.

  A woman spoke behind them. “Good morning, Libby. Who’s your friend?”

  Amy turned to face a woman of about forty with tired brown hair, a turned-up nose, and thin lips. She wore a friendly smile. “I’m Amy Lang.”

  “Oh yes, you own Rosemary Cottage. And you delivered little Noah here. The village is buzzing about the news.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  The woman held out her hand. “I’m Frannie Hurd, the owner of the shop. Women are always asking me if there are any midwives on the island. Think you might stay?”

  The heat of a flush marched up Amy’s neck. “I’m considering it.”

  “Let me know what you decide, and I’ll send plenty of business your way,” Frannie said. “What can I do for you today, Libby?”

  Libby glanced around. “I need some clothes for Noah. He arrived a little too soon, and I wasn’t quite ready. And I want to look at bedding. I don’t think what I have in the room works.”

  “I just got in some catalogs you might find interesting. Come with me.” Frannie led Libby off to her desk.

  The door jingled behind her, and Amy turned to see a familiar face. Curtis entered the store with a small girl in his arms. Her pulse ratcheted up two notches as it always did when she spotted the handsome Coast Guard lieutenant. Not that he’d ever noticed her. His light brown hair had blond highlights put there by the sun, and his eyes were as gray as the sea on a stormy day. Her gaze wandered to the little one. Amy guessed the child to be about one. She had dark curls and dark eyes that tilted up at the corners.

  Curtis froze when he saw her, and his smile was forced as she approached. “Amy. That must be your bike out there.”

  She nodded. “Who’s this cutie?” Amy smiled at the child.

  “My niece, Raine.” He shifted as if he was uneasy. “I just popped in to get her some pajamas. Oh look, Raine, there they are. New pj’s. Nice seeing you, Amy.”

  “You too.” She watched him stride to the infant section. He hadn’t been so uncomfortable at Rosemary Cottage. What had changed?

  FIVE

  The courtyard of the café held only a man and his teenage daughter eating soup. Amy kicked off her sandals under the table, then sipped her coffee and soaked in the island atmosphere. Her arm still ached from where the inexperienced nurse had poked her, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear tearing at her insides. What if she had to go back to treatment? She couldn’t face it. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. One day at a time. That’s all she could get through.

  The scent of the sea and the masses of roses growing along the edge of the sidewalk teased her nose with memories. The taste of the fish taco she’d had for lunch still lingered on her tongue. “I’ve missed this place.”

  “I’m so glad you’re back.” Libby glanced at Noah in his baby seat under the shade of a sycamore tree. He was fast asleep. Her expression was pensive when she looked back at the table.

  “Is something wrong?” Amy asked. “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  Libby’s smile seemed forced. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on and why you’re here. Do you suspect Alec of lying about Ben’s death?”

  “Of course not!” Amy reached across the table and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’d forgotten Alec saw him and found his board. You have to know how much I love you and Alec. I know the kind of man he is.”

  “Then why are you so sure Ben’s death wasn’t an accident?”

  Amy reached for her large bag and dug out the e-mail she’d received. “Because of this.” She handed it to her and watched Libby’s face change as she read it.

  “Secrets? Hypocrisy? It sounds like whoever wrote it disliked Ben.” She looked down at her hands, then back at Amy. “There are stages of grief, Amy. One of those is denial.”

  Amy’s cheeks heated. “It’s not denial, Libs.” She held up the paper. “I didn’t make this up.”

  “Could it be a prank?”

  “That’s what the police think, but I don’t believe it. I want to know what secrets the sender was talking about.”

  Libby handed back the paper. “Maybe there are none. If it’s a prank, I mean.”

  “It just feels true. Don’t you think?” Amy watched Libby’s face until her friend nodded with obvious reluctance. “I showed it to Pearl. She thought it was a prank too, but I think no one wants to believe someone might have deliberately hurt Ben.”

  “You have to check it out. Where can we start?”

  “You’ll help?”

  Libby adjusted the bonnet of the carrier so the breeze wasn’t on the baby. “Of course. Alec too.”

  “I want to talk to the rescue team that looked for him. Alec, Josh, Curtis, Sara. I want to find out where they suspect he went in the water. And I want to talk to Tom and see if he did any kind of investigation and how quickly he decided to call it a drowning.”

  “I think everyone believes it was a simple drowning,” Libby said. “
And be careful with Tom. If you go in with both guns blazing, he’s liable to be offended.”

  Amy smiled. “I do have a little diplomacy.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I called him when I got the e-mail and sent it to him. He thinks I’m off base. So we’ve had our initial skirmish.”

  Libby smiled back, then nodded toward the doorway. “No time like the present to practice that skill.” She rose and waved. “Tom, come join us. You haven’t seen Noah yet.”

  The big sheriff, in his thirties, hiked his pants and came their way. His grin broadened when he saw the sleeping baby. “I stopped by this morning to make his acquaintance. I’m surprised you’re out and about already.” His brown hair was graying a bit at the temples.

  “You sound like Alec.” Libby leaned back in her chair. “I’m not one to lie around. I feel fine.”

  “You look good too.” He bent over and touched Noah’s soft hair. “He looks just like his daddy.”

  “I think so too. Alec just beams when people tell him that.”

  Heather appeared with her pad and pen. “Coffee, Sheriff?”

  The apron was longer than the skirt she wore, and her feet were going to be killing her in those heels by the end of the day. Amy hadn’t seen her get ready this morning or she would have advised her to wear something different.

  Tom ordered coffee and a sandwich. “I heard you were in town, Amy. You here about that e-mail?”

  Nothing like getting straight to the point, but Amy would rather have it that way. No beating around the bush. “I am.”

  His heavy brows came together. “I understand your concern, but there are some weird people in the world. I get the worst of them through my office.”

  “I don’t think so. I would like to go over everything you did when you discovered Ben was missing.”

  Heather brought his coffee, and he took a swig of it before he answered. “Ben drowned, Amy. It was a sad day, but it’s happened here more than we like to admit. The currents are strong, especially that time of year.”

  The man wasn’t listening so she shifted gears. “That’s another thing. Why was he even here in November? We always come in the summer.”

  “Not Ben,” Tom said. “He came nearly every month, for at least a few days.”

  Amy caught her breath. Her chest hurt as though she’d been punched. Why wouldn’t Ben tell her he was coming more often? She could have met him here. “For how long?”

  “A good year.”

  Amy turned from the sympathy in Tom’s eyes. “Did you know he was here too, Libby?”

  Libby was quick to shake her head. “No, I didn’t. He must have slipped in and out of town. Rosemary Cottage is pretty quiet. Maybe he needed some downtime. He had a stressful job.”

  “True.” It hurt to think he hadn’t wanted her company though. They’d shared everything. Or at least she’d thought so. His business was handling company mergers and making them profitable. There was always the stress of letting people go. He’d hated that part of the job.

  “What do your parents say about this?” Libby asked.

  Amy sipped her drink and wished she didn’t have to answer. “They told me to let it alone, that Ben was gone and nothing could bring him back.”

  “Good advice.” Tom nodded.

  Noah began to fuss, and Libby rocked his infant carrier with her foot. “They believe it’s a prank?”

  “I think they don’t care whether it is or isn’t. Mom would rather bury her grief in her charity business and forget any unpleasantness, and Dad is too busy with golf to care.”

  Her family had always been different. That’s why she and Ben had faced the world together. Without him, she might as well be alone.

  Amy walked barefoot through the emerging dawn toward the sound of the surf. The birds were beginning to awaken, and a blue jay squawked when she startled him. Amy’s meeting with the Coast Guard team would be over dinner at Tidewater Inn tonight, so she had the entire Saturday free. The house was spotless, and the sea beckoned. There was a path through the maritime forest to the beach.

  She crossed the narrow road and stood on the dunes. The sun hit the waves in a gorgeous display of color she’d seldom seen. Ben always wanted to wait until the sun warmed things up, so they never got here before the sun finished its climb out of the waves.

  The waves were huge rollers today, surging up onto the sand to deposit shells before ebbing back to regain their fury. She pulled her sweater tighter around her to block out the chilly wind.

  “Hello.”

  Amy turned at the pleasant female voice. A short woman of about fifty stood behind her with a surfboard in her hand. A Jack Russell terrier was by her feet. The woman’s generous curves were stuffed into a wetsuit. She hadn’t yet covered her short brown curls with the hoodie in her hand.

  Amy smiled. “Good morning. You’re surfing this early in the season? I bet the water is cold.”

  “I surf nearly year-round.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Edith Lowman.”

  Amy shook her hand. “Amy Lang.”

  Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Ah, the miracle worker who delivered young Noah.”

  “I see the village drum has spread the word.”

  “A body can’t pick a flower in Hope Beach without someone seeing it.”

  The woman’s quip gave Amy hope. Whatever had happened to Ben, someone had seen something that would help her get at the truth. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met. Did you move here recently?”

  Edith tugged the neoprene hood over her head and began to tuck her curls into it. “I’ve only been here a few months. I came from Maine, so this water is warm compared to what I’m used to.”

  “You surfed in Maine?”

  “Sure did. I’ve been surfing since I could stand on a board. I was about three, I think. The day I’m too old to surf is the day I’m ready to meet the Lord. Have you surfed here before?”

  “When it’s warm.”

  “Go get your gear, girl, and you’ll see what surfing was meant to be. If you’re brave enough.” Edith lifted a challenging brow.

  Amy opened her mouth to turn down the offer but instead found herself saying, “I’ll be right back.”

  She raced to the cottage and found her surfboard in the shed. Her wetsuit was a 4 mil so that would help. And she had a hoodie. She pulled on her wetsuit and grabbed her surfboard, then jogged back to where Edith was waiting.

  Edith slanted a smile toward Amy. “Oh my stars, you surprised me. I thought for sure you’d vamoose and I’d never see you again.”

  “I intended to, but I decided I’m up for an adventure.” Amy stared at the whitecaps rolling to the thick dunes. “It looks cold.” There was a light breeze that chilled her even more.

  “Water temperature today is about sixty. It will be a shock at first, but you’ll adjust quickly. Ready?” Edith asked. The dog barked in answer and ran toward the waves. Edith picked up her board and joined her pet.

  It was always smarter to surf with a buddy in case you got conked on the head or rolled by a wave. Amy followed her into the water, gasping at the first shock of the waves on her feet and calves. She hadn’t expected it to be quite this frigid.

  She stopped. “I don’t know about this.”

  “Wade in slowly to your waist and adjust, then plunge in.” Edith was already to her waist. She flopped onto her board, then helped her dog onto the slick surface.

  “Your dog surfs too?”

  “Sheldon loves it. He puts me to shame.” Edith straddled the board while she waited. “Come on, you can do it.”

  Amy wasn’t so sure. She waded out a little deeper, wincing as the cold water touched her thighs. If she was going to do this, she’d better just take the plunge. She inhaled and dove under the large wave rolling toward her. The power and the cold squeezed her lungs, and even when her head popped above the water, she struggled to draw in enough oxygen. But she hadn’t come this far to quit. Seizing her board with cold fingers, she heaved herse
lf aboard and paddled to join Edith.

  “Well done.” Edith smiled. “Let’s see what you’re made of.” She turned her board and paddled out to the breakwater.

  Amy barely felt the cold now, only the exhilaration. She paddled out until she crested the surge, then waited for the right wave. There it was. Edith saw it too and paddled to meet it. Amy did the same. The curve of the wave lifted both boards. Amy found her feet and balanced on her board as the crest took aim at the shore. The warm air was in sharp contrast to the cold water spraying her legs and feet.

  She spared a glance to see how Edith was doing and saw the dog straining at the front of the board with Edith balanced behind it. It was a picture Amy would never forget. This would be a keeper wave, one she would talk about for a long, long time. An exultant shout of laughter came from her throat, and she felt more alive than she had since receiving the news of Ben’s death.

  When the power of the wave left her in its choppy wake, she bobbed to the surface and laughed. “Let’s do it again!”

  Edith’s grin stretched across her face. “I knew you’d love it. So did your brother.”

  Amy’s smile faded. “You knew Ben?”

  “I showed him how to cold surf too.” Edith leaped onto her board and paddled out to catch another wave.

  “I need to talk to you.” Amy followed her.

  SIX

  Curtis scanned the waves and saw his aunt’s head bobbing in the water. Someone else was crazy enough to be out surfing in that cold water, but he couldn’t make out who it was from this distance. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Raine studying her book, a new Punky Grace book he’d just bought her.

  She caught his gaze in the mirror. “Ede?”

  “We’re going to get her now.” He pulled the car off the side of the road and parked, then tugged his Harley do-rag more tightly to his head and got out.

  There was no parking lot along this stretch of beach, but Edith loved to surf here and usually walked the mile from their house. The waves were strong just off the point, and it was a beautiful spot with sea grass anchoring the thick dunes and the maritime forest struggling to survive the heat and salt. He often came here to listen to the waves himself.

 

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