Abby Donavan came to the small beach community of Crystal Cove to start over. After a painful affair broke her heart and derailed her burgeoning career, taking over management for the just-opened bed-and-breakfast was the safe choice. In this sleepy town, Abby figured she could bury her memories and forget the pain.
When the chance to have her own hotel falls into her lap, though, she can’t resist the temptation. Making the old Riverside Inn into the showplace she’s always dreamed of running offers the second chance she never expected.
Abby didn’t expect another kind of second chance to land on her doorstep at the same time. Ryland Kent wants to help her bring the Riverside back to life, and his passion for restoration is irresistible. But as much as she wants to ignore it, she can’t help seeing another spark in his eyes . . . one that offers to reignite her own flame.
Sometimes the path to a happily-ever-after is anything but smooth.
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The Path
Copyright © 2015 Tawdra Kandle
All rights reserved.
Published by Hayson Publishing
St. Augustine, Florida
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Cover by Once Upon a Time Covers
Formatting by Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
Blurb
Title Page
The Crystal Cove Books
Copyright
dedication
prologue
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
epilogue
THE PATH Play List
The Crystal Cove Books
Other Books
acknowledgements
about the author
To all my girlfriends, from childhood through homeschooling to authordom: you each hold a special piece of my heart, and I can’t imagine life without you all as part of it. Even when we’re far apart, or when we don’t see each other for long periods of time . . . know I’ve got your back, just as I know you’ve got mine.
“NO, NO, NO!” I SHOOK my head and pressed my lips together, trying to tamp down my frustration level as I stood outside the bright yellow house. “You’ve got the flag facing the wrong direction. It’s got to come off the pole and go back on the other way.”
The men standing on the edge of the roof on the second story of the Hawthorne House Bed and Breakfast exchanged glances that I couldn’t quite read, but I was pretty sure they weren’t ones of admiration for me.
“Hey, Ms. D., don’t you think it’s okay if they stay like this? No one’s going to notice whether the leaves face this way or that.” Lester Black put his hands on his hips and stared me down. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this kind of battle, but thank Christ, it was likely to be one of the last. Today’s changeover from our summer décor to the autumn flags and flowers was my last official duty as manager of this bed and breakfast on the main street of Crystal Cove.
“No, actually, Lester, I don’t think it’s okay. When have I thought it was okay to take short cuts or do things the wrong way just because they were easier? Now are you two going to fix those flags, or am I going to come up there and do it myself?” I planted my hands on my hips and leveled my most lethal bitch stare at the men.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Les, just do it.” The other man, a little shorter and stockier than his co-worker, shook his head. “You know Logan’ll have a shit fit if he finds out we let her climb up here. And she will.” He cast me a baleful glare, and I only barely managed to not stick out my tongue in return.
Be chill, Ab. You’re the boss. You’re in charge. Don’t give an inch. Stand firm, and they’ll do what you say.
I could almost hear my father’s words in my head, and I smiled a little. Colin Donavan never had to raise his voice to get things done. He just spoke slowly and precisely, with that underlying core of steel, and everyone jumped to do his bidding.
His daughter, on the other hand, had to make use of the bitch stare with alarming regularity just to get two workmen to fix flags or set up flowerpots. Yeah, no matter how much of my dad’s hotel-running acumen I’d inherited, I still didn’t seem to be able to command the same respect he did. Maybe I never would.
“Abigail Donavan, the fairest of them all.” A familiar voice approached from behind me, and I grinned just before two arms wrapped around my shoulders. “Every time I see you, you’re more gorgeous. What’s your secret?”
I leaned my head back against Alex Nelson’s broad chest. “Must be clean living.”
He sighed heavily. “Well, then, I’m fucked.”
I laughed, and he joined me, keeping one arm around me as he stood at my side, looking up at the house. “She really is a beauty, isn’t she?”
“She really is.” I swallowed hard. I wasn’t really leaving the Hawthorne House far behind me. My new job was just up the road, and I’d be able to come down here any time I wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly. But we’d been each other’s first, this house and me. I was her first manager, and she was my first B&B, my first solo managing job. Working here, in this quaint little Florida beach town, for Jude Hawthorne and Logan Holt, had been my salvation after the unholy mess I’d made up in Boston. She was always going to hold a special place in my heart.
“Transitions are hard.” Alex wasn’t looking down at me anymore, but his fingers tightened around my arm. “And scary. But you know you’re leaving her in good hands, right?”
“The best.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, rough with the little bit of scruff I’d noticed he always left on his jaw. “You and Cal are going to rock this job. I couldn’t have left her with anyone else.”
“And you’re not really leaving. You’ll be so close at the Riverside, we’ll practically be able to hear the hammers from down here. We can walk to meet up halfway for lunch every day, and I’ll give you an update on all things Hawthorne.”
“Don’t be silly. You don’t work for me, and you don’t owe me any updates. Jude and Logan’ll keep you accountable.” I smirked. “Besides, I’ll know what’s going on when I make my midnight walks down here, peeking in a
t the windows and skulking in the garden.”
“Well, that’s . . . creepy.” Alex grimaced. “I just made a note to myself to add privacy shutters to the list of things I need to get for our apartment.”
“As if that would stop me.” I paused, watching as Lester and his cohort replaced the flag poles, with the autumn leaves facing the correct way this time. “Nice job, boys.”
Lester waved, but I wasn’t entirely certain all of his fingers were participating equally in the action.
“Did he just give you the finger?” Alex squinted up.
I shrugged. “I’m choosing not to notice. One thing I’ve learned is that sometimes we have to choose our battles and be happy about the ones we win.” I slid Alex’s hand into mine. “Come on inside, and I’ll fix you a drink to celebrate my last day as manager of the Daniel Hawthorne Bed and Breakfast.”
“And the first day of the rest of your life.” Alex squeezed my fingers. “I’ll drink to that.”
SHE WAS GORGEOUS.
And I was in love.
I could always tell right away. Love at first sight was something I believed in, just like I believed in the magic of Christmas, the existence of angels and the hope of a World Series win for the Philadelphia Phillies.
Well, two out of three ain’t bad.
It usually happened for me within the first few minutes. I didn’t have to hear a word; I could just take her in, watch her and feel the hum of possibilities. I loved that giddy sense of hope that filled me during the early days, when everything was potential and dreams, before reality came crashing in and we had to deal with problems and snafus. Before my eyes were forced to see that beneath the beauty lay brokenness and decay.
But for now, all I could see was the future, like a vision spread out before me. She was both the vision and the future. Yeah, there was no doubt in my mind.
The Riverside Inn was a dream come true.
“So you gonna stand there and drool all day, or you gonna get to work?” Lincoln punched me in the shoulder, grinning.
“Yeah, I might. Drool, I mean.” I slid my gaze to his. “She’s pretty damn drool-worthy.”
“Oh, hell, Ry. No way. This one?” Linc glanced at the sprawling building, disbelief in his eyes. “Aw, dammit. You got the look. I see it on your face. You got the look, and that means you’re attached already.”
I laughed. “Pretty sad that you know me that well. Yeah, she’s a go. I signed the papers day before yesterday.”
“Shit, man.” Linc shook his head. “This one is . . . it’s bad, buddy. I saw the reports. Most of the main building’s structurally unsound. Tearing her down to the stud’s a given, but we may have to go father than that.”
“I know.” I’d read the same reports. The old hotel had been empty for years, sitting on this huge chunk of land on the outskirts of Crystal Cove, Florida. One owner and then another had made plans, only to abandon them. That was okay, because I knew she’d been waiting for me all along.
“You know, yet you sign the contract. You commit to this building. To this project. And you don’t only commit yourself, you commit me and the rest of the company, too. Did you think to ask me what I thought before you put your John Hancock down on those papers? Why’d you bother asking me to come up here if you’d already made up your mind?”
I shrugged. “Linc, I gave you a chance at partnership three years ago, and then again early this year. You turned me down both times. I value your opinion, and I try to listen, but if you want a real say in the projects we choose, then you’ve got to be a partner. Because right now, I’m where the buck stops. So you have to trust that if I said yes, I know how we can make it work. And I wanted you to see her because I know this project will start percolating in the back of your mind now. You’ll call me at midnight in a few days with ideas.” I elbowed my friend in the ribs. “Besides, have we ever failed yet?”
“Came damn close in San Francisco.” Linc muttered the words darkly, and I tried not to wince.
“Yeah, but it all worked out in the end.” The old house we’d agreed to turn into a bar and restaurant for a couple in California had seemed like an easy job when I took it. We’d been a solid two weeks into the rehab when one of the guys discovered extensive structural damage, probably from one of the earthquakes. It was too late to turn around, too late to back out, and I was damned glad I had enough capital saved to cover the extra manpower and work hours, not to mention the supplies. We’d eeked it out, barely breaking even . . . but we did it. And now that trendy little bar was getting rave reviews from all the fancy-schmancy food critics on the West Coast.
“Barely.” Linc shook his head. “Well, nothing we can do about this now. You committed us, so we’re all in, for better or for worse. I’m heading back down to Vero, finish up the details and the punch out on the salon. Then if it’s cool with you, I thought I might swing over to Mont Devlin for a little while.”
I kept my face expressionless as I nodded. “Sure. Of course it is. Gonna check in, see the kids a little?”
“Yeah, thought I might.” His mouth pinched together, and I could see his jaw tighten under the thin layer of his beard. “For whatever time they’ll give me, anyway.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to him. Nothing could change the past or make this situation any less painful. So I didn’t insult him with stupid meaningless words. Instead, I gave him a light punch to the shoulder. Linc understood; his lips twisted into what passed for a grim smile, and he shrugged.
“You take what you need, you know that.” I leveled my gaze at him, making sure he understood me. “When you’re ready, come on back here. I’ll put you to work.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He took one step away, toward where I assumed his truck was waiting, before pausing to glance at me over his shoulder. “You got a place to crash here yet, or you still got to find something?”
“I have a place in town. The owners have a friend—Cooper Davis, he’s actually a carpenter, a woodworker. He’s going to do the decorative wood and the built-ins here on the Riverside. Anyway, I guess he just moved in with his girlfriend, and he’s got an apartment he doesn’t need at the moment. It’s furnished, close to the site and best of all, free. Cooper says he’s just happy to have me there to keep my eye on his shop at night.”
“Sweet.” Linc had regained a little of his calm. “I’ll get in touch when I’m back. Where’re you setting up the guys?”
“Motel the next town over. It’s got restaurants, stores, bars . . . all the stuff they need to be happy while they’re here.” I considered briefly and shook my head. “And probably enough for them to get into trouble, unfortunately. But we’ll deal with that when it comes.”
“Sure. Although I’ve got a feeling this one’s going to keep them so busy, they may be too tired to cause problems after work.”
I grinned. “You could be right.”
Linc laughed and started walking again. “I’ll be in touch. Don’t have too much fun before I get here.”
“Fun doesn’t start ‘til you do, buddy.” I yelled at his departing back, trying to ignore the slump in his shoulders. I’d known Lincoln for over ten years. We’d met on one of my earliest jobs, when I’d just started out. I’d been an unhappy combination of cocky and homesick, carrying a giant chip on my shoulder to hide my terror that I might fail. He was a few years older than me, already married with a kid, and he’d taken me under his wing. When I’d launched my own company finally, offering Linc a partnership had been a given. But his life had changed radically by then, and he wasn’t ready for the added responsibility. Or so he claimed.
Still, we all knew Linc was as much a part of this company’s leadership as I was. He might not’ve had the title, but he put in the time and did the work. I just wished that it gave him some peace of mind, something that had been missing from my friend for far too long.
The sun was sinking lower in the sky, and I rubbed my jaw, thinking. I was tempted to go in and check out a few sections of the old
hotel that I hadn’t gotten a chance to really explore during my short walk-through with Logan Holt a few days back. We had a rule at this stage in the game: nobody, no matter how experienced or careful, was supposed to be in the building alone. In these rehab projects, we couldn’t always predict when a supporting wall might decide to give way, or when a cracked foundation might shift. The guidelines I’d laid down myself stated that one person needed to be outside while at least two went in together. Breaking that rule was grounds for instant firing.
But hell, I was the boss. I knew my way around these old beauties, and I had an uncanny sense of where I might not be safe. Stepping inside a little ways wasn’t going to hurt anyway. I checked my cell and made sure I had both battery life and signal before ducking beneath the yellow caution tape.
The Riverside had been built over a hundred years ago, before Crystal Cove had even really existed. She’d been designed to cater to the river traffic; although the Cove was known for its beaches, they weren’t as popular a century before as they were now. Instead, the hotel had welcomed guests who were meandering down the waterways from Jacksonville to the interior of the state, which had still been largely wilderness in some places.
I imagined what she must’ve been like then; pretty and graceful, her two main wings sprawling over a large expanse of green lawn that went to the edge of the river. Wide verandas beckoned weary travelers, and the huge kitchens produced some of the best food south of Savannah. I could picture it, and I wanted it for her again. I knew I could make it happen.
Stepping carefully along the shadowed corridor, I paused, squatting to examine some partially-rotted molding. I pulled a small folding knife out of my pocket and carefully pried off a piece. I rubbed my thumb over the front and smiled. Oh, yeah. I could work with this. Wasn’t easy to find this kind of decorative trim anymore, but I’d taken a peek into Cooper Davis’s shop, and I was pretty damn sure he could replicate it. Might take some sweet talking, but he seemed like a good guy, and he was undoubtedly passionate about his work. Well, so was I, about mine. I’d make this happen.
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