Sandpiper Island (The Bachelors

by Donna Kauffman

  “Ford—”

  “I mean it,” he said. “We’ve spent a lot of years hard-wiring ourselves to go it solo. I imagine when the going gets tough, either one of us might opt to rely only on ourselves so no one else gets caught in the crossfire. If we go down, at least we only take ourselves out in the doing.”

  She just stared at him, and was surprised to see one corner of his mouth briefly kick upward. “How’m I doing so far?”

  She surprised herself and him by finding a rueful smile of her own. “Remind me not to fall for a guy who thinks just like I do.”

  He cupped her cheek then, tipped her face up to his. “Are you, Dee?”

  “Am I what? Going to duck? I—I can promise you I’ll at least tell you what’s going on, but if you’re out here and I’m in the Cove, then I’m going to do whatever I think needs doing.”

  “I’m coming back with you.”

  She lifted more of her body away from his and stared fully into his face. “But the chick—”

  “Is good. I’m going to file the nail down today, do a closer examination of the foot, but the damage is surface; nothing important was injured or broken. I think she could be released in the next day or two.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll radio Blue today and see who he’s got coming out to this area. He puts boats out in weather that would terrify a Norse warrior. One of his guys can come by. We can meet him out at the edge of the harbor in my boat, and they’ll get you in. I’ll follow as soon as our B&B guest up there is ready to check out.”

  Delia smiled again, and realized there was something to be said for having a shoulder, and not just to cry on. “It helps,” she told him. “A lot. Just being able to talk about it. It makes me feel . . . proactive.” She looked up at him. “And less alone.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “Even if I can’t get back for some unforeseen reason, the phone works. Grace even taught me how to videoconference one-on-one, or whatever it’s called.”

  “Skype.”

  “Right. So we’ll talk, and . . . do that. Whatever we need to do.”

  She rose up on her toes, and pulled his head down for a hard, fast kiss.

  “What was that for?” he asked, looking a little stunned. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “I know I’ve managed to look out for myself for a lot of years. Most of them, in fact. And I’ve been good with that. So, I’m not saying I can just flip the switch and suddenly turn to you for every last thing. But . . . when I pulled up to the courthouse to speak to the mayor, and ended up seeing the writing on the wall, the first instinct I had was to pick up the phone and call you. It shocked me, to be honest. But . . . that’s where my mind went. So, it will be a process. For both of us. But I . . . I just wanted you to know that.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “That does mean something to me.” He paused, and then said, “Why didn’t you? Call me, I mean.”

  She surprised them both by smiling. “Well, I sort of thought that all but fainting in your arms, apparently flashing you and unsuccessfully trying to seduce you, then not only admitting my lascivious nighttime thoughts about you, but falling completely and utterly apart in your arms, in my shower, with you dressed, would be enough to shame my subconscious into never dreaming about you again.”

  Ford’s lips twitched, but he said nothing, forcing her to finish with no help from him.

  “I would have been wrong about that,” she said primly. “So calling you seemed . . . imprudent. I mean, was I calling for help, or was it my sex-addicted subconscious essentially begging me to drunk dial you?”

  His mostly stoic soldier face broke at that and he let out a short chuckle. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, thinking about your admission—which was more a revelation, if I’m being honest—distracted the ever-loving hell out of me. If you had any idea what an impossible time I had trying to force my thoughts anywhere but there, and then you go rogue on me, leaping into my car, begging me to bring you out on my boat—”

  “Whoa, whoa there, sailor. There was no begging.”

  “Only because I graciously allowed the damsel clearly in distress to stow away on my boat.”

  “So, it was simply a charitable gesture on your part.”

  “Yes. Compounded by the fact that I was already struggling to get my thoughts about you under control, so—”

  “So you’re looking for what, double Good Samaritan points?”

  “Then you go and admit you have this sex-addled subconscious, so we may be talking more than double here as I see it, because—”

  “Because you’re so full of it. You know that?” Her laugh turned into a short squeal when he lifted her up off her toes. “Careful, you know where this led last time.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, his face a picture of reverence. “I do indeed. I can’t decide whether to have that ladder christened with some kind of plaque memorializing the date, or to replace it completely. The latter, I think, if I have any hope of ever getting any work done around here.”

  “Decisions, decisions,” she said in mock sympathy. “I might have to replace Gran’s claw-foot tub. For mortification reasons, of course. So it’s not just you, bub.”

  He let her slide down until her toes grazed the ground, but kept her wrapped up against him as he dipped his head. “We could always reprise the shower scene, only with fewer clothes on my part, and fewer tears on yours.”

  “Mmm,” she said, sneaking a kiss from him. “Maybe falling for a man who thinks like me isn’t such a bad thing after all.”

  He looked into her eyes. “That’s actually what I was asking earlier. You thought I was asking if you were going to duck and run, but . . .” He trailed off, suddenly looking as if he wished he’d never opened his mouth.

  Delia played the conversation back through her mind, then her eyes widened as she looked up at him, and her heart bloomed even bigger. So big, so strong . . . she couldn’t forget that didn’t mean he wasn’t vulnerable, too. “I am,” she said, softly. “Falling. If that’s what you were asking.”

  She saw not so much relief in his gaze as the comfort that came with acknowledgment. “Good,” he said, his voice a bit gruff. He leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, then her lips, once, twice, then simply sank in.

  Delia moaned softly and moved more deeply into his arms.

  “Glad I’m not the only one,” he said against her mouth as their lips finally broke contact.

  She smiled, feeling her lips curve, still pressed against his. “Yeah, whose brilliant idea was it that going solo was a better deal?”

  He chuckled, and then kissed her again.

  Delia was pretty sure they wouldn’t make it past the couch this time, only the phone chirped again. Ford was going to ignore it, only Delia broke their kiss just long enough to say, “I told Peg to call. If there was anything else that—”

  Ford nodded and kept one hand on her hip as he stepped away to grab the phone from the table. He looked at the digital display, and then handed it to her without answering. “Peg,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Delia understood what he meant. If Peg was calling again so soon, it probably wasn’t with good news. She clicked the response button. “Hi, Peg, what’s up?” She listened for a moment, her eyes growing wider with each passing second. “But how did they—” She broke off, and listened some more. “No, no, I understand. Yeah. We have a plan. I’ll let you know.”

  Ford took the phone from her when she clicked off.

  “I think you need to call Blue,” Delia said, still trying to digest what was happening back in the Cove.

  “Okay. What happened?”

  “Well, seems as if Peg wasn’t the first one to find the eviction notice.”

  Ford’s eyebrows climbed up a notch. “Who else knows?”

  “Old Lou came by. Lost track of the days, I guess. He does that. He didn’t realize it was Sunday and we weren’t open yet. Saw the notice, and . . . it only takes one grape on the vine to alert
the whole Cove.” She looked up at him. “And well . . . it seems that they’ve staged a protest in the park by the municipal buildings. According to Peg they made some signs and they’re marching around and yelling at the mayor.”

  Ford’s lips twitched. “How many is ‘they’?”

  “I don’t know,” Delia said. “I didn’t think to ask.” She shook her head, smiling just a little. “I’m really touched, but I can’t let them do that. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past the mayor or the town council to call Logan and have them arrested or something.”

  “Would Chief McCrae do that?”

  Delia shrugged. “He might not have a choice if they’re breaking the law.” She looked up. “So much for that Disney ending, huh?”

  Ford smiled. “I don’t know. Having the townsfolk picketing city hall to save the town diner does have a certain Hollywood ending feel to it.”

  Delia smiled, too, but it was short-lived. “It does. But it will only make matters worse if they go and get themselves locked up.”

  Ford turned her into his arms and pulled her in close. “You going to be okay?”

  “I have to be,” she said. “What they’re doing is the sweetest thing ever, but I can’t—”

  “I don’t mean are you going to be okay for the town.” He tipped up her chin. “Are you going to be okay? This is your diner. Your life. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath since this started.”

  “I know. You’re right. I—I guess I don’t know how I am.” She smiled bravely. “But it looks like I’m not going to have to wait long to find out.”

  Chapter 19

  Ford helped Delia down the ladder onto one of Blue’s big trawlers. He handed down the kennel containing their disgruntled houseguest, and then climbed onboard himself.

  “Ford,” Delia said, holding the kennel with the puffling against her body. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Sure I do,” he said. “She’ll be fine,” he added, nodding to the baby chick. Before Delia could protest again, Ford turned to the captain. “Thanks, Robbie. I appreciate this.”

  “Happy to,” he said, “but you might want to strap in. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, doc.”

  Ford slung his pack and Delia’s backpack off his shoulders and stowed them in a console bin near the prow, then followed Delia and their resident patient aft. Delia hadn’t said much once he’d made the call to Blue. They’d lucked out and Robbie had been about ten minutes out. Ford had made sure Blue explained to Robbie that he’d pay him well to make up for the lost time on the water. At the moment, he was more concerned about Dee.

  She was clearly moved by the townsfolk’s reaction, but she was worried, too. He’d tried to explain that they were grown adults who were responsible for their own actions, but he understood why she’d feel a certain responsibility for what was going on. He was glad he could be there for her, but the hardest part was not being able to step in and fix it. Whatever “fixing it” might imply.

  There was no doubt she was crushed at the thought of losing her livelihood, but he was certain she’d figure out how she wanted to resurrect herself and her business. He’d do whatever he could to help her. And it was clear the townsfolk, or a goodly number of them, would support whatever her new endeavor might be.

  But saying that and actually going through the steps of dismantling the business she’d spent half of her life building, then figuring out how and where to move on, was not going to be a simple task. Not physically, and most definitely not emotionally.

  “I don’t want to watch,” Delia said.

  They were both sitting on a bench seat inside the wheelhouse, out of the direct wind. He looked down at her and saw she was staring out at the horizon line, though he doubted she truly saw it. He wasn’t even sure if she knew she’d spoken out loud. He’d tried to take the burden of the kennel from her, but she’d just tightened her hold on it, and he’d understood that, too. He put his arm around her shoulders, though, and pulled her close.

  “I watched O’Reilly’s burn. The last of it, anyway,” she said. “I’m not going to watch them tear down my diner. Once in a lifetime is enough.”

  His heart squeezed for her. He debated saying what had been going through his mind, then went ahead and said it. “It’s a plot of land and an old building that you brought new life to, making a whole lot of wonderful and lasting memories for a whole lot of people.” He looked down at her until she glanced up at him. “They might be tearing down that building, but the heart and soul of Delia’s Diner is here.” He tapped her chest. “That means wherever you go, whatever you do, Delia’s lives on. No one can take that away from you, for any price.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, and her smile was tremulous. “What did I do to deserve you?”

  “You’re my home, Dee,” he said simply. “It wasn’t the Cove I came back to. It was you.”

  She pulled in a shaky breath, and then pressed her head against his shoulder. He pulled her in more tightly, careful to keep the kennel and its houseguest stable on her lap as they braced themselves against the rough pitch and fall of the boat as it trundled over open water, cutting through the waves.

  Robbie had explained he was going to take a longer route back to the harbor, weaving through some of the small islands to lessen their time on open water, where the waves were the heaviest.

  “We’ll figure this out,” she said at length and another little part of his heart settled at her use of the word we.

  He still didn’t know how he was going to reconcile the daily routine change he was facing, but what he wouldn’t lose sight of was the truth he’d just given her. She was home to him. Any changes he had to make, any adjustments they might require, would all result in his having this woman next to him. Those changes seemed suddenly insignificant, given the payoff.

  He left her to her thoughts for the remainder of the ride in, content that she stayed in the shelter of his body, drawing from him whatever strength she could. Once they got back to the Cove, he’d contact a few of his volunteers and have them meet him at the foundation offices to set up puffling care. There were a few who lived in town, or close enough to it, who knew how to take care of injured seabirds. It might mean keeping the chick a day or two longer than was strictly necessary for her to heal, and he knew it was critical to get her out to sea before the summer turned any closer to fall so she could start her northerly migration. But it would all get done. They’d given the baby chick her best chance for survival. Now it was time for him to do the same for Delia.

  Upon docking back at Blue’s, he helped her up the ladder, then passed her the kennel and their packs once she was dockside before turning back to Robbie. He shook the older man’s hand. “Thank you. If there’s anything I can ever do—”

  “Just keep up the good fight, doc. Blue said to give him a shout when you’re ready to go back out.”

  Ford nodded, then climbed up to the dock and helped Robbie push off again before turning back to Dee. “My truck is in the lot, so I can take you wherever you need to go first.”

  “What about the chick?”

  He explained his plans. “Why don’t I take you to your house first? I’m guessing you want a change of clothes, and you can get your car. I’ll go by the foundation offices and do what I need to do, then meet you wherever you are by then.”

  She nodded, still looking a bit lost in thought. “Sounds good.”

  “Dee—”

  She looked up at him. “I know I seem out of it, but I’m just . . . thinking. Planning. Not about what’s next. I . . . I honestly don’t know what I will do, but I do know that I want to keep doing what I do. I just . . .” She blew out a long breath. “It’s the where and how that are a little overwhelming. The idea of starting completely over, building a whole new place. I guess it should sound exciting or something, but it just sounds . . . exhausting. And that’s assuming I can even find a place that’s worth putting the effort in on.”

  “You know you want to cook, to feed fol
ks, give them a roosting spot,” he said. “That’s the biggest part of it. What, how, where . . . that will come.”

  She nodded. “I know. That’s what I was thinking. I wasn’t focusing on that, really.”

  Surprised, he said, “So, what were you thinking about?”

  She surprised him again with a smile. “How to reward my champions down at city hall with a little support from their up-till-now somewhat shaky leader.”

  Ford grinned. He knew she’d find her footing.

  “City hall handed me a pretty crap deal. I didn’t deserve that, and neither do those folks who have supported me all these years. So, the very least we can do is give back the same.” She handed Ford the kennel, then pulled her phone from a side pouch on her pack and scrolled through her contact numbers. “Winstock might have money, but I have wealth, too. Only mine comes in the form of folks I’ve kept fed and happy over the years. I think it’s time to see if I can get that investment to pay out a dividend or two.” A particularly satisfied smile curved her lips as she punched the button and held the phone up to her ear.

  Ford wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but his own smile matched hers as he heard the voice that answered on the other end.

  “Blueberry Beacon, this is Brenda.”

  “Hi, Brenda,” Delia said to the local newspaper editor, as she and Ford started the trek up the dock to the lot where his truck was parked. “I have a story for you. Yes, over at the courthouse. You already have someone there? Excellent. Hey, listen, do you still go to Maryanne down in Machias to get your nails done?” She listened. “Good, good. Her brother works for the local news station headquartered in Bangor, right?” Delia grinned as she listened to Brenda pick up that ball and run with it. “I was thinking the same thing. And anyone else he wants to bring along with him.”

  She hung up; then Ford watched as she scrolled, found, and punched in another number. “Hi, Sam,” she said, when another woman answered. “I know it’s a Sunday and you’re not exactly close by but—yes, it is true.” She listened some more. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Your mom is the sweetest. Yes, I’ll tell her when I see her. No, no, there’s nothing we can do to save it. But I was thinking you have media contacts there in Bar Harbor, right? Where Brooks Winstock has his yacht club membership? Well, maybe the local paper there would be interested to know he’s trying to start up his own little club up here, and that might have a negative impact on the club there if he’s thinking about culling some of his buddies from their membership roster to fill up his own.” She paused. “Yes, sounds like it might make a great local story. If someone wants to get up here, I can promise that by this afternoon, there might be a little local color going on here involving Mr. Winstock as well.” Her smile spread to a grin. “Well, that would be fabulous. Yes, I believe he does have a golf membership there. I’m not sure what his plans are for adding any kind of pro level course here, but nothing would surprise me at this point. The more the merrier.”