A Home by the Sea

by Christina Skye

“I…I’m learning to deal with the loss. I keep trying to believe that everything happens for a reason.” She raised her chin, managing a smile. “Just call me Pollyanna.”

  “Never. I’d call you strong. Focused. And very brave,” he said quietly.

  He started to touch her hand, then cleared his throat and stood up quickly. A distance filled his face. Grace saw sadness drift through his eyes.

  “Noah?”

  He turned away as plates rattled in the kitchen. A chair slid out from the table.

  “You two coming back to eat? Because I may have to finish these dumplings before they get cold,” Noah’s brother called out, smiling when his wife, small and gorgeous, chided him and dug her elbow into his ribs. He leaned down to kiss her, while Tatiana urged more food on both of them. Reed’s daughter toddled toward him, then crowed with laughter when he held up a long noodle and made it wriggle like a worm.

  It was noisy, messy and achingly seductive.

  This was what a big family felt like. Grace hadn’t realized there could be so much energy and emotion contained in one small room.

  She felt a sudden sense of regret that she had not grown up in this kind of big, noisy family. Growing up, there had been no brothers to tease her and no sisters to confide in. There was no father to offer calm guidance and no mother to protect and steer her. After all, she had never known her father.

  And her mother was mostly a string of bad memories.

  Grace rubbed her forehead. None of that mattered. She was in control of her life now, perfectly content with her grandfather’s love and support. She had a wonderful job doing what she loved most.

  There was no room in her life for regrets.

  Noah leaned over and pulled an age-softened alpaca afghan around her shoulders. “Everything okay?”

  “Just daydreaming. Sorry.”

  “Did you like my mother’s dumplings?”

  “They were heavenly. I notice she added a little bit of sour cream to her dough. That’s unusual, no?”

  “You caught that?” Noah raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the arm of the couch. “It was a custom in her family. You really do know something about foreign food, don’t you?”

  Grace didn’t tell him that she had traveled through ten cities in Eastern Europe, interviewing cooks all along the way. She didn’t add that she was planning to write a book on worldwide varieties of dumplings someday.

  She looked up as Noah’s mother crossed the room, holding out a cup of hot tea. “You left this, so I made you another. It is nice and hot.” Her eyes were shining. It was clear that she was delighted by the presence of her family, happy to see everyone eating well, safe here within her house. “You are well, Grace? The little cats too?”

  “Wonderful.”

  “You must eat more! You only had one bowl of borscht and a few perogies. Even Reed’s little girl, in her highchair, can eat one bowl of borscht.”

  “No more for me, I’m afraid. Your poppy-seed cake smells wonderful, so I have to save room for that.”

  “You will have the first piece then.” Tatiana sat down beside her and held her hands out to the fire. “Did you enjoy your travels in that side of the world? Was there family to visit there?”

  “I had a distant cousin from Slovenia. He was held to be quite a good cook. I was very little when I visited with my grandmother, so my memories are blurred. But I remember his borscht above everything. He labored over it, coaxed it and talked to it. When it was done, he served it from a big tureen in blue-and-white porcelain bowls and his finest silver. I think he would have been very happy with your version of the recipe.”

  “I would like to have met him. It’s always good to talk about old times and recipes with someone who cares for the past. You have been back recently?”

  “Three years ago. I visited Austria and Eastern Europe on a cooking internship. I didn’t get to stay long in one place, but it was fascinating. I learned the common threads that make any cuisine great.”

  “I can tell you what those are.” Tatiana swept the table with a lingering glance. “Not salt. Not the best extra-virgin olive oil. It is love that melds the flavors and tenderizes the meat. It makes the thinnest of ingredients go down with wonderful flavor. Is it not so?”

  “All true. Even fine ingredients can be ruined by an angry chef or a cook trying to cut corners.”

  Tatiana McLeod squeezed her son’s shoulder and smiled slowly. “I like this young woman. You will bring her here to dinner often, Noah. I think she could teach me some things, and that I would enjoy very much.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Mama, but that is for the lady to decide.”

  Grace had been watching the box by the fire, and suddenly she saw the towel rise and begin to creep over the sides of the box, carried by two inquisitive kittens. The puppy was right behind them, awkward and stumbling on his small, wobbly legs. “Excuse me. I see trouble.”

  Grace lunged to collect her charges. One of the kittens mewed and climbed up against her chest, purring loudly. Grace didn’t move, swept by a feeling of contentment so rich and heavy that all movement was beyond her.

  Noah grinned as he slung one arm around his mother’s shoulder. “Hard to get irritated when they’re so cute. But that one could be trouble. He’s going to be a real explorer.”

  “Just like you,” Tatiana said quietly. “Always moving. Always curious about every little thing. ‘Why does it rain, Mama? What makes the sunset, Mama? How do you make your best borscht, Mama?’”

  Noah ran a hand through his hair. “I sound like a menace.”

  “Not a menace. A normal and very wonderful child.”

  “A menace,” Noah muttered, looking sheepish.

  Someone called for Noah’s mother, and she returned, pulling on a fresh apron as she headed through the kitchen.

  As three generations of McLeods laughed and joked and argued, Grace felt a sudden longing to be home with her grandfather, eating Swedish meatballs at the kitchen table, catching up on all the news at the animal shelter and the small population of Summer Island. Peter Lindstrom wasn’t growing any younger, and although he had always enjoyed perfect health, Grace knew that could change at any moment. And how could she bear that?

  A hand touched Grace’s shoulder. “Hey. Is everything okay? Do you need some help with your little climber?”

  “No, I’m fine. They’re all so incredibly cute.” The littlest one snuggled against her chest, rolled onto his back and heaved out a sigh of contentment.

  “They definitely know a good thing when they see one. Smart, all of them.”

  Noah reached down and rubbed the mother cat gently beneath the chin. She pushed at his hand, eyes slitted with pleasure, purring softly.

  “They all like you, Noah. I think you make them feel safe.”

  “We always had at least two pets running through the house when I was growing up. Controlled chaos, my father called it. What about you?”

  “We didn’t have pets at home. There was no time. My grandfather was a vet, and when I was fourteen he took over the care of the county animal shelter. Then when the county’s finances became rocky, he took personal responsibility for the shelter.”

  “He must be a very good man.” Noah leaned back, braced on one elbow. “How did he manage it? Food, rent, medicine—it had to cost an arm and a leg.”

  “It’s been difficult. Lately I think he’s been drawing from his savings, but he refuses to discuss it with me or anyone else. The animal shelter is a labor of love. I help out as much as I can when I’m home, but it isn’t enough. In fact, I’ve been thinking lately that I should choose my workshops by location. That way I can be home with him more often.”

  “It’s a hard call, but I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. Growing up with an animal shelter sounds great. How many dogs and cats did you take care of?”

  “Every week was different. Some weeks we had five or six dogs and maybe a dozen cats. Some days we would have four times that many. That’s when
it got rough. Luckily we had lots of volunteers from Summer Island to help out.”

  “Summer Island? So you grew up at the beach?”

  “Just a small one. The Oregon coast is very rocky there, with cliffs right up to the water. Growing up, I thought it was the most magical place on earth. Even now after I have traveled to all kinds of beautiful places, I still think Summer Island ranks in the top five. Of course, I’m biased.” She leaned back, cuddling the kitten closer to her chest. “You don’t need to keep me company, Noah. Go finish your dinner. I’ll be fine with my little friend here. And I really should get home before it’s too late. Tomorrow I have an important project to prepare for.”

  Noah shook his head. “I’m afraid you aren’t going anywhere tonight. They’ve just issued a county-wide safety alert. No one should be out on the streets tonight except in an emergency. There are collisions all over the state from the whiteout, and the security personnel have their hands full.” He glanced at his watch. “My mother is making up a bed for you here in the den. Anytime you want to sleep, let me know.” He cleared his throat. “She was going to give you my old room, but Reed, his wife and their daughter are going to sleep up there. The temperature is supposed to drop and there have been intermittent power outages, but we’ll be fine. When my father built this house, my mother insisted on having two fireplaces so that we’d be prepared for all kinds of storms. That was another remnant of her tough childhood back in Ukraine. Things are different for her now, but I don’t think you ever forget.”

  It was so tempting to relax. If she stayed, she would be drawn into all this bustle and warmth and generosity. And then there was Noah himself. Grace was honest enough to admit that he intrigued her. He was calm and casual, but she felt the weight of authority in his words. He handled problems without loud talk or fuss. Something told her he had a great deal of practice taking care of problems.

  What kind, she didn’t know, but she wanted to. She wanted to know everything about him.

  And that kind of curiosity was dangerous. She wasn’t going to get serious about another man until she healed from the first.

  Yet Grace couldn’t ignore the sweet tug of temptation. If she wasn’t careful, she might forget all her good intentions. Here among this loud, close family, it would be so easy to relax.

  She stood up, feeling a desperate need to be away from the warmth and belonging. “That’s very kind of you, but I can’t stay here. Maybe I can find a cab.”

  “No cabs running. Everything is shut down tight. Sorry, Grace, but we’ll make you comfortable here. Plus I know my mom is itching to ask you more about your visits to Eastern Europe. She’s never been back, you see. All her family is gone now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But really, Noah, I need to go. I have a project to finish tonight. And I want to call my grandfather. If he hears about the storm, he’ll be worried about me.”

  Wind hissed around the house, rattling the windows.

  The lights flickered, and then the room plunged into darkness as the power went out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TATIANA BEGAN CALLING crisp orders from the kitchen. “Reed, please find the flashlight and batteries in the top drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Alex, my love, there are more blankets in the guest room closet. I have hot water already boiled, but we will need the Thermos bottles. I also have marshmallows and chocolate, to make those things you boys loved so much in Boy Scouts. Shores, you called them.”

  “S’mores, Mom. And that sounds great.” Noah rubbed his hands together. “The power should go off more often.”

  Reed appeared at the door, holding a flashlight. “So, bro, let’s go get the sticks and marshmallows.”

  “You’re on.”

  Twenty minutes later, Grace was downing her third heavenly mixture of perfectly roasted marshmallow, graham cracker and melted chocolate. She didn’t even have to move. With the kitten on her lap, Noah held up cooked morsels for her to eat from his fingers. She had to admit, the whole experience was more than a little hedonistic. The brush of his hands and rich tastes made her feel wonderfully decadent.

  Noah tucked the blanket around her on the couch. Candles flickered in the kitchen and then footsteps moved away up the stairs. The house grew quiet as the snow swirled outside the window. With the power gone, Grace’s sense of being enclosed in a cocoon was complete. The flicker and snap of the fire lulled her to sleep, along with the warmth of the little kitten curled up on her lap. She yawned and smiled sheepishly. “I think the day has finally caught up with me.”

  “Get some rest. I’ll keep an eye on these bad boys. Once the weather settles down in the morning, my dad and I will get you home in the Hummer.”

  “I appreciate this generous hospitality.”

  “I’m happy you’re here, Grace.” Noah studied her face in the firelight. “I feel calm when I’m around you. I can’t quite explain it.” He leaned back, scratching one of the kittens. “So how about dinner tomorrow, assuming that the roads are clear?”

  “I…I don’t think I can.”

  “Then what about Friday?” The other kittens stirred. A sleepy head rose and big dark eyes looked from Grace to Noah.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “It’s just dinner. Everybody has to eat, remember? And since you brought these amazing animals into my life, now we’re both responsible. You’re going to need my help to take care of them.”

  He was right. Grace had taken on more responsibility than she expected in that alley tonight. But she had to make the situation clear. “I’m feeling overwhelmed, Noah. I didn’t expect any of this. And just so you understand, I’m not considering a relationship.”

  His eyebrows rose. “All I asked for was a simple meal together. No need to make it complicated.”

  But it was complicated. She had spent eight years with a man she thought she adored. A man who seemed above reproach, dedicating his life to helping others find reconciliation under hostile circumstances. If you couldn’t trust a man like that, who could you trust?

  Grace forced the bad memories down before they could swirl up. “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “So our timing is wrong. At least agree to a snowball fight.” He raised his palms. “Nothing complicated in that.”

  He made it so easy for her to feel safe and comfortable, but Grace refused to give in to that gorgeous smile. “Really? I’m not quite buying that.”

  Noah lifted the restless kitten from her lap, tucking it back into the warm spot next to its mother, where it immediately began to nurse. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s the importance of taking opportunities when they’re offered. Life has its own timetable, and if we look away or hesitate or blink, a moment can pass. Things can change.” His voice hardened. “People can be lost forever.”

  Grace heard the sadness again. This time it held something like remorse.

  She was surprised at how much she wanted to ask him what he had lost and why. There she went, getting pulled in again. Questions could take her places she didn’t want to go.

  Instead, she blurted out an answer that neither one of them expected.

  “Fine. I accept your challenge. Tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. in the backyard. But we have to have some rules. Time limits and number of rounds per bout. I like things to be spelled out,” she said firmly.

  He leaned back, smiling faintly. “Three rounds or the first one to declare defeat. Five minutes max per round.”

  “Accepted.”

  He looked more pleased than he should have as he pulled her blanket up around her shoulders. Side by side they watched snow dust the windows while the fire crackled. His shoulder was warm against hers and Grace felt strength radiate from his body. His presence seemed to anchor her.

  She yawned and found herself wondering how his hands would feel on her bare skin. What if he turned and brushed his lips over hers?

  Quickly, the flow of her imagination turned dangerous. She sat up straighter and forced her tangled t
houghts away from hot images of Noah kissing her.

  Touching her.

  Impossible. Stiffly, she picked up a pillow and blanket and lay down on the couch. She wasn’t getting involved.

  “Good night, Noah.”

  She heard his soft laugh. “’Night, Grace. Sleep well.”

  “I will.” She caught back a yawn. “And a friendly warning. This snowball fight of ours isn’t going three rounds. It will only go one.” Grace yawned again and closed her eyes. “I give it about three minutes. And then you are so going down, Noah McLeod,” she murmured.

  As she pulled the blanket around her, Grace felt him slide a second pillow under her head. “Wanna bet?” he whispered.

  SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING.

  Noah stood in the doorway, frowning. He had told her it wasn’t complicated, but that was a lie.

  The complications might have begun when he had seen her all but climb into that Dumpster, oblivious to her elegant evening heels and silk dress. They might have started when she had cradled the hungry kittens, looking fierce and protective. Then she had surveyed his crowded, noisy dining room, and he had seen her face fill with the ache of longing.

  It didn’t make sense, but Noah felt he could read her emotions, even though she worked hard to hide them. To others she would appear cool and controlled, but he saw the way her fingers clenched and her shoulders tightened. She faced life head-on, strong and stubborn, and she loved what she did. He knew that much. But he wanted to know everything about her. And he wanted to share parts of himself he never shared.

  He turned away, angry at the urge to sit across from her. Not to touch, but simply to watch her sleep.

  And that kind of longing was dangerous. The work he did left no room for emotions that could confuse and distract him. When you had three seconds to make a life-or-death choice of half a dozen wires, you had to have a clear mind.

  You had to be able to walk away. That had been Noah’s personal rule for as long as he could remember. It had never been a terrible sacrifice—until now.

  He blew out a quiet breath, listening to the snow at the window. The wind was whining and the noise had disturbed the mother cat, who sat up alertly.