by Delia Latham
The older woman set a mug of hot coffee in front of Dec, her smile sweet and warm.
Raine drew a deep breath, hoping her moment of panic hadn’t been noticed. What was it about her hostess and this place that turned her imagination inside out? Coming here without supervision might have been a mistake after all, despite her growing desire to break the parental apron strings. She shook her head.
Dec swallowed another generous bite of Miss Angie’s heavenly banana pudding.
But she hadn’t been wrong. A certainty had taken hold deep within her heart. She was exactly where she was supposed to be on this day, in this hour, in this moment.
“Have you been to Cambria before?” Dec’s deep voice sent little thrills scurrying down her spine.
Raine gave herself a hard mental kick. Buck up, girl. This man clearly has no problem being charming when he wants to be, but he’s not always this pleasant. Don’t forget that! She managed a polite smile. “No, and my first glimpse of Paradise Pines took my breath away.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I keep hearing that. Cambria is a beautiful location, but this place has something special. No one comes here and leaves unchanged.”
Unchanged? An odd way to sum it up, and yet Raine felt the rightness of Dec’s words.
“I can believe that. Meeting Miss Angie alone is worth the trip.”
“Oh, now, aren’t you a sweetheart!” Her hostess’s rosy cheeks pinked even further. “I’m nothing special—just another of God’s creations. I’m blessed to have been assigned to this beautiful place. I like to think of it as my own personal Garden of Eden.”
Assigned? Raine bit back a grin at Miss Angie’s way of speaking. Then again, those odd, off-kilter speech mannerisms were part of her charm.
“Well, I agree with Raine. Paradise Pines wouldn’t be the same with anyone else welcoming visitors.” Dec swiped at his lips with a napkin and pushed back from the table. “That’s unbelievable banana pudding, but I really must go, Miss Angie. Thank you for the food and the company.” He turned to Raine with a smile that could’ve melted the hardest heart. Was the man even aware of his own lethal charm? “I really am sorry for being such a hard-nose this morning. Will you let me make it up to you? I’d be happy to show you around Cambria while you’re here.”
Raine hurried to nip that idea before it ever budded into full bloom. “That’s very kind, but not necessary. I don’t need—”
“What a wonderful idea!” Miss Angie clapped her hands like an excited child. “Declan, you’re always so thoughtful. When will you pick Raine up for her first tour of our little town?”
Raine’s jaw dropped, and she snapped it closed, her cheeks flaming.
“I don’t have anything pressing to do tomorrow.” Dec hiked a heavy eyebrow. “Raine? Ten in the morning work for you?”
She nodded, unable to push her frozen voice past her throat.
“Then it’s a date.” Miss Angie grabbed Dec’s arm. Her voice floated back to Raine as she walked him to the door. “It’s good that you came by, Declan.”
A date? Mortified, Raine wished the floor would simply open up and swallow her.
Dec’s low, rumbling chuckle drifted from the entryway to where she still stood next to the table. “Anytime, Miss Angie.” After a brief pause, he continued. “Why do I get the feeling I didn’t really have a choice?”
A sweet trill of answering laughter followed. “We all have a choice, dear boy. Now you have a lovely day.”
The door closed, and soft footsteps padded back toward Raine, who couldn’t quite figure out what that little conversation had meant.
****
Late the next morning, standing at a viewing point on Highway 1, Raine hauled in a hefty dose of salty sea air and hoped her eyes weren’t as round as they felt. “There must be”—She puffed out a breath, shaking her head—“hundreds of them!”
“At least.” Dec chuckled. A hand at the small of Raine’s back urged her farther up the trail. “Come on. You didn’t think this was all, did you?”
“There are more elephant seals?”
Dec had picked her up promptly at ten, just as he’d promised. Then he’d driven right past Cambria, where Raine had assumed they’d spend the day.
“We’ll come back,” he promised when she shot him a questioning glance. “But first, I want you to see one of my favorite spots—well, other than my own little piece of land, of course.”
Raine enjoyed the short drive north, through San Simeon and on for another six or seven miles.
The ocean lay off to their left—gorgeous, undulating shades of teal and blue shimmering in the morning sun.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with the seaside. Her home in Pasadena offered easy access to the coast, and she always found the ocean stunning, if somewhat overwhelming in its vastness. Still, she was awed by the distinctly different appearance of the same ocean just a few hours farther up the California coastline. She could almost believe she was looking on a whole different body of water. Those sparkling jewel tones didn’t manifest themselves in such pure, stunning glory back home, did they? Surely she would have noticed.
After a short walk past the viewing point where she’d been amazed by the elephant seals, they rounded a curve and Dec urged her toward the bluff.
“You have to see this.”
Raine discovered she didn’t mind in the least when he took her hand as they approached a fence separating viewers from a steep drop-off. A stiff breeze slapped them in the face. Dec surprised her again when he pulled her long hair back and held it at the nape of her neck so it wouldn’t whip into her eyes. Then he pointed downward.
Elephant seals lay in a solid, wriggling mass on a broad beach—although in truth, hardly an inch of beach sand was visible through the massive bodies of the mammals. They lay over and atop one another, an enormous seal population on a small stretch of coastline.
“Oh…! This is incredible!” Raine tore her gaze from the scene below to look at Dec. “Are there always this many of them? There must be several hundred along this one strip of beach.”
“Late summer and through the fall, they’re pretty numerous. Right now, not so much, actually. We’re looking at mostly newborns. I know it seems like we’re seeing a huge number of them, but in truth, well”—He shrugged—“this is March. Fewer of them are here now than at any other time of year. If I remember correctly, maybe 5,500 or so. We’ll come back in May, if you’re still here…the seal population then will make this one look small. There’ll be…oh, I don’t know, probably 15,000 seals.” He grinned when Raine’s jaw dropped. “Amazing, huh?”
“To say the least! I’ll have to do a little research. I never realized they gathered in such huge numbers.”
“They come here to the rookery to rest and revive themselves—and to deliver and nurse the young ones. You’ll notice some movement down there…” He ducked his head toward the beach, where young elephant seals hauled their sleek bodies in an awkward, bouncy hustle from one spot to another. “But a month or so ago, the adults were here, and they would have mostly been sleeping—and fasting, after having foraged at sea for many months.”
“The adults are gone?” Raine realized Dec still held her hair—and her hand. Should she reclaim it? But she found herself reluctant to do that. His warm, gentle grip afforded a certain comfort she couldn’t quite define. Why make an issue of such a simple, well-meant gesture?
“Most of them. There are still a few adult males, I think.”
“So…the male seals take care of the babies?”
He grinned. “They take care of themselves. Watch closely, and you’ll see them going into the shallow water now and then. They’re learning to swim and strengthening their muscles for the months at sea. That’s not too far off for them.”
Raine stood silent for a moment, taking in one of the many wonders of nature she’d never seen before. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Dec grinned and turned back toward the car. “Lady, you ain’t seen nothin�
�� yet.”
They retraced their steps down the trail, and he settled her into the passenger seat.
Before shutting her door and returning to the driver’s side, he touched the tip of her nose as if she were no more than twelve years old. “This mean ol’ Cambria woodsman has a lot more in store. Think you can handle it, city girl?”
She hiked her chin in the air and returned the saucy grin. “Bring it on, woodcarver. I can handle anything you’ve got to offer.”
He raised one eyebrow, and a low chuckle sent a warm shiver down Raine’s backbone. She blushed as her overly bold answer replayed itself in her mind. Thankfully, Dec proved too much a gentleman to expand on that rash statement.
And what had she meant by it, anyway? She experienced a brief flash of panic. Out on my own for the first time, and already in over my head.
Dec whipped the car into a questionably legal U-turn and sped back toward Cambria. “OK then. You can now say you’ve seen the elephant seals. Let’s go see what we can find in the village.”
“Onward, ho!”
The man she’d described as an ogre only the day before was actually more than easily likeable. She enjoyed his company to a ridiculous degree, and this after only a taste of it.
Maybe Miss Angie had been right about him.
And maybe her folks had also been correct in thinking she had no business going off anywhere on her own. Here less than forty-eight hours, and already having fanciful thoughts about a man she’d only just met.
Be that as it may, she couldn’t come up with a single ounce of regret for having come to Cambria. Her entire body tingled in anticipation of whatever her handsome guide had in mind for the next hour or so. She had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t matter. Dec could take her to the county dump, and she’d find it exhilarating, just being with him.
****
They stood in front of a rickety tri-level residence that looked like something out of an animated horror film, and yet Raine’s expression held no revulsion or derision.
Dec watched the expressive play of emotions across her lovely face. The longer he watched her, the more he felt like kicking himself for bringing her here. Seriously, man? Most women would consider this a bit like a visit to the local landfill.
And yet his charge didn’t seem to object. She stared at the house, her eyes wide and green as any fine emerald. “What did you call this place? Idiot Hill?”
He laughed. “Nitt Witt Ridge.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled a cute little nose at her own faulty memory. When had embarrassment ever looked so darned cute? “Are we going inside?”
“Not today. I didn’t make an appointment. But if you’d like to see inside, I’m sure I can get us in another time.”
“I’d love that. You said it was built by”—She gnawed at her bottom lip, her gaze narrowed as she tried to dredge up the bit of local history he’d fed her on the way—“a trash collector, right?”
Dec’s gaze slid across the sadly deteriorated exterior of the home built against a hillside, just above the heart of the village. “Yes. A man named Arthur Beal bought the property sometime in the twenties, and then spent the next fifty years or so using a pick and shovel to dig out the terraces so he could build a home against this hill. He was a garbage collector, and from what I understand, he built this place using nothing but found items. He made good use of other people’s castoffs.”
“And of course ‘normal folk’ dubbed his eccentricity as a lack of intelligence.” Raine shook her head. “I happen to think he showed a lot of initiative and creativity.”
“That he did.” Dec experienced a moment of deep satisfaction at her words. He’d always admired the man known around Cambria as Captain Nitwit. Such extraordinary drive and determination wasn’t a common trait.
As much as he loved his father, the man had always exhibited a decided lack of that kind—or any kind—of ambition. Dec had never doubted that his dad loved his family, but he always seemed to be after something just out of his reach. Finding it too difficult to obtain, he’d give up and move on to the next empty dream, dragging his family along with him.
Just thinking about it made Dec’s belly growl. As a kid, his stomach had rarely been full, and his bed never long enough or comfortable enough for a decent night’s sleep. He’d watched his mother and sister get by with far less than they should have. His mother died young, never having had a home she could be proud of, never having owned a pair of shoes that actually fit.
Dec had determined to make something more of his own life…and this run-down house on the hill, made of repurposed objects and scorned by most, had been an inspiration to him. If Der Tinkerpaw—another subtly derisive moniker with which the townsfolk had dubbed Arthur Harold Beal—could spend fifty years digging out a hillside with nothing more than hand tools, then a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks could make something of himself.
A soft hand touched his arm, jerking him back to the present.
“What are you thinking?” Raine’s gaze had pinned itself on his face, and Dec’s stomach did a quick backflip.
He managed half a smile. “Mr. Beal.” He refused to call the old man by either of the less-than-respectful names he’d acquired before his death. “You’re right. He was the furthest thing from a nitwit. I’m not saying I’d want to live in this place…” Dec grimaced. “It was never hooked up to septic, for one thing. But something about it gives me hope. Its very existence says if I want something badly enough, I can make it happen.” He jerked his head toward the tumbledown house on the hillside. “He did.”
Raine smiled as they climbed back into the car. “Yes, he did. And I do want to see the interior, if you can manage to get an appointment.”
“I can. I will.” He grinned as he slid in beside her. “Just don’t expect much in the way of elegance. Remember what I said about the sewage.” He shot her a rueful grin. “The inside of Nitt Witt Ridge is no fancier than the outside.”
“I don’t expect it to be.”
Dec drove the car back down the short, steep grade into the village proper. “You like cookies?”
She groaned. “Who doesn’t? I probably don’t need them, but…”
“Well, then I know where we’re going next. You can’t get better cookies anywhere.” He glanced at the clock on his dash and grinned, surprised at how quickly the morning had passed. “On second thought, we should eat first. How about barbecue?”
“I’m willing to follow the leader…this time.”
Dec drove toward the north end of West Village, where good barbecue lived.
4
They found the restaurant packed, but Raine managed to find a vacant table outside in the fresh air while Dec placed their order.
She loved the hustle and bustle of busy diners coming and going, the snippets of conversation from different directions, the salty tang of sea air. But even as she absorbed her surroundings, part of her wondered where Dec had gone, back there at Nitt Witt Ridge. For a moment, although he’d stood right beside her, he’d been somewhere else. And judging by the way he tightened those firm lips and furrowed his handsome brow, it hadn’t been the most pleasant of places.
What had he been thinking?
None of your business. She administered a firm mental slap to her wrist. Let it go.
Dec’s arrival helped her do that, at least for the moment.
He slid a loaded tray onto the table and sat across from her. “Welcome to the best barbecue in the West.”
She laughed. “Well, it certainly looks and smells inviting. I didn’t even realize I was hungry until I got a whiff of whatever this is.”
Dec took her hand and bowed his head. She did the same as the low rumble of his voice skittered its way from her toes all the way to the top of her head, where it tingled her scalp in a most pleasant manner.
“Father, thank You for this beautiful day and for the company of this lovely woman. Thank You for the food we’re about to eat and for Your constant love and ca
re. Amen.”
Now how could such a simple prayer, spiced with the most offhand of compliments, throw her heart into overdrive? Raine picked up her pulled-pork sandwich and bit into it, determined to change the course of her thoughts.
A second later, her eyes widened—she felt the stretch, so Dec must be seeing a bug-eyed version of the “lovely woman” across from him.
“Oh my.” She swallowed the first bite and dabbed at her lips with one of the stack of napkins he had brought to the table. “Oh my! This is incredible!”
He grinned, and Raine somehow knew he’d expected just such a reaction.
“Told’ja so,” he said and took another impossibly big bite of his own sandwich. He paused for a drink, and then tilted his head to one side. “So…I haven’t asked. What brings you to Cambria? Since you’re staying at Paradise Pines, I think I can safely assume you’re here for the duration of the season, right?”
“Yes.” Raine tapped at her lips again. She was bound to be wearing a bit of the barbecue sauce. She sipped at her sweet iced tea before pulling in a deep breath. “I finished a little early at university, and I’ll be starting a new job in forensic pathology as soon as I leave here. I’m just taking a break between school and work.”
Dec sent her a quizzical look—one eyebrow climbing, the other taking a dive. “Finished early, huh? You skimmed over that pretty neatly, lady, but I have a feeling it means you’re an exceptionally hard worker—and more than just passably intelligent.”
Raine shrugged away the compliment as warmth curled upward from her neck into her face.
Dec chuckled. “OK, you don’t want to talk about that. So when are the actual commencement ceremonies? I assume you’ll be participating in those.”
“In May, and yes, of course I will.”
Now he laughed out loud. “I’ve never met anyone less willing to talk about their own accomplishments. May I at least congratulate you on earning your degree, and on what sounds like a really profitable career field?”
“Of course.” She squirmed, uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. “Thank you.”