by Robyn Carr
“They don’t have Coast Guard stations on the moon yet,” she murmured.
“Well,” Cooper said, thinking for a moment. “You’re right, this is going to go down hard. I was moved right before my senior year and I’m still pissed about it. And I didn’t have a shining football career ahead of me. I was just an ordinary high school kid.”
“This will devastate Landon,” she agreed.
“Is it at least a decent job? In Florida?”
“Depends on your definition of decent. It’s a good position and I’m in line for a promotion. It will mean less flying and more administrative time. But I’m good at both, so…”
He thought maybe they should continue walking…and thinking. But for some reason his feet were rooted to the ground. “Maybe it would help if…I could get him down there early, like right away. We could look around, make sure he gets into a good school with a good football team and give him a chance to adjust before school starts. By the time you get there, maybe he’ll be human about it….”
Her eyes were round and her mouth actually hung open. She shook her head as if to roll the marbles back into place. “You would do that?”
“Of course I could. Or I could take care of him here. He only has one more year. But it would be so damn far for you to travel to see him. That would be really hard on both of you. I mean, you’re a team, you and Landon. But there’s another fact you have to face—in one more year he could choose a college on the other side of the country. He’s going to leave your care eventually. But if things stay as they are now, I think he’d probably opt for the left coast….”
“Live with you…here?”
He grabbed her arms and looked into her eyes. “Okay, maybe you don’t want me to be a part of this. But if that’s what it is, you have to tell me, Sarah. I’ve been bent out of shape worrying that you want to dump me. We’ve been together nine months. You know I love you—you know I want to spend my life with you. If you don’t want that, you have to tell me.”
“But you have a business here! A son!”
“I haven’t lived with my son for the last ten years. He wouldn’t be devastated if I only visited. In fact, there’s no guarantee Spencer and Austin will stay in Thunder Point—that all depends on if this job works out to be a good thing for them both. You and Landon, that’s a different situation. It’s just the two of you and you’re real tight.”
“And the bar? The beach?”
“Ah…I love the beach and the bar is working out, but I’m not more tied to that than to you, for God’s sake. I could sell it. I could even sell it responsibly, so it doesn’t hurt the town. Or I could rent it so there’s something to come back to. You do understand that if I had to make a choice…”
“You’d be giving up everything you love!”
He just smiled at her and shook his head. “Not everything I love.”
“What if I quit?” she said. “What if I didn’t take the assignment and just resigned my commission and didn’t have an income? What if I turned out to be just a part-time barmaid who couldn’t pay her own rent just so Landon could finish school here?”
He laughed. “Don’t tease me,” he said. “Sarah, don’t you know by now? There’s no deal breaker here. I’ll take any part of you—career Coast Guard pilot or simply my wife. And I’m not asking you to give up anything you love or have worked hard for.” He grinned. “I know how controlling you are. And I also think you love me. You love us together. If you don’t, you have a good fake going on.”
“Cooper…” she whispered, her eyes misting.
“Hey! How long have you been carrying this around? This worry and burden?”
She shrugged helplessly. “I got wind of it a couple of months ago, when it was just rumor, when there was still hope that—”
“A couple of months? Aw, baby! We could’ve talked it out a long time ago! This has been eating you up! Sarah, honey, you don’t have to manage everything alone anymore. You can count on me, don’t you know that?”
He looked around uncomfortably. They stood on a sidewalk under a restaurant’s neon sign. The surf was audible, but so was passing traffic. He grunted, reaching into his shirt pocket. “This isn’t what I planned. Man. I’m no great romantic, but I thought I could do better than this. And I don’t know if it will help your decision or just make it harder, but…” He produced a ring. Not a box, just a ring. But he thought it a damned beautiful ring. “I’ve been carrying this around for a while now, but you were so bitchy. Sorry to say that, but really…” He held it out, in his palm. “Please don’t make me get down on my knees,” he said. “The ground is wet.”
A laugh sputtered out of her through her tears. “You’re not kneeling?”
“On a wet, cracked sidewalk, in the mist, on a busy street? Only if it’s the difference between yes and no. I’ll kneel for you later…. Sarah, I want to marry you. I want to bind you up and take you off the market. I want you to trust me with your problems. I want to be your other half. I want us to share the same life, whatever that means. The only caveat is that I will always visit Austin, wherever he lives. But you? You, I want to be with every day. And I will never ask you to give up anything for me—just say you’ll be my wife.” He picked up the ring and slid it onto her finger so she could look at it.
“Is it real?” she asked.
“Of course it’s real! It’s not a custom design or anything, so you can exchange it for something you like better. It’s damn hard to pick a ring for a woman who never wears jewelry and who goes to work in combat boots, so I can be flexible here. But you have to say yes first.”
She looked up at him. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know you are,” he said softly. “Plus, you hold a grudge. It takes a lot to piss you off, but man, when you get there… Look, I know you’re scared, but I’m not. For the first time in my life, I’m not nervous about commitment like this. And eventually you’re going to stop being scared because there’s not one thing about us that’s suspicious or scary or risky. Everything works with us. We’re solid. And you know it. You should take a chance on us. We can be happy, I know we can.”
She blinked and a tear escaped. “Then…yes,” she said in a whisper.
He lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her, at first lightly, then with hunger. His arms went around her waist while hers went around his back, molding her to him. Their mouths fit perfectly, searching and caressing and devouring, the taste of her tears on his lips.
A horn honked and someone yelled, “Get a room!”
They broke apart on a laugh. “Let’s get a room,” he suggested.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
He kissed her again. “Home,” he repeated. “Sounds good to me.”
*
It was hard for Gina to say goodbye to an idyllic weekend at Joe’s little cabin on the lake, but Mac said, “He promises that any time we can get away and it’s not in use, it’s ours.”
They headed home, as man and wife, all ready for a new adventure in Thunder Point. They would have dinner with Carrie and Ashley, at which time Gina would pack up what was left of her toiletries and a few other personal items and bring them over to Mac’s place. School might be out for the summer, but Gina and Mac both had to get back to work on Monday morning.
As they pulled onto Main Street sawhorses had been set up with detour signs hanging from them. “What’s this?” Mac said. “I wasn’t told about this. I wonder if there’s trouble in town.”
“Why would they close the street through town?”
He put the truck in Park. “I couldn’t tell you. Broken water main? Fire? Maybe they’re moving a wide load through town? Let’s go have a look, Mrs. McCain.”
They walked the rest of the way into town and as they got closer they spotted the Sheriff’s Department SUV, lights flashing, blocking the street in front of the diner. There were people everywhere, milling around the closed off street.
“Oh, Mac, this doesn’t look good….”
They took a dozen more steps when someone yelled, “It’s them! They’re here!” And a surge of people moved toward the police vehicle. Behind the crowd a banner was raised between the diner and Carrie’s Deli that said, Congratulations Gina and Mac! Suddenly they were being embraced into hugs, slapped on the back by laughing, smiling, happy friends and neighbors. Since neither of them could move, they were pulled into the center of town. There were long tables full of food, wide grills steaming, a Sno-Kone machine, an ice cream truck. Wayland had a bar set up outside his bar and Cliff, wearing an apron, waved from behind one of the grills. And music floated toward them—“Here Comes the Bride” rang out on electric piano and guitar. There was a band set up on a platform at the end of the street! And right in front of Carrie’s deli, on a special table, was a very large wedding cake. Large enough for a town.
Ashley pushed through the people. She was grinning. “Told you we could throw a wedding together in a week or two.”
Gina looked up at Mac and the only thing she could think of to say was, “I’m wearing jeans.”
He grinned at her and said, “I like you in jeans.” And then to the pleasure of a cheering crowd, he grabbed his wife and kissed her senseless.
*
Not far away, another car was parked outside the roadblock. It was a ten-year-old Pathfinder with a lot of miles on it. Cee Jay was driving, Maddy was in the passenger seat and their luggage was piled in the back. Cee Jay got out of the car and looked down the road into the town. The banner had been raised, the music played and it appeared there was dancing in the street as the sun made a lazy decline over the rocky Pacific coast. Kids and dogs ran amok, laughter rang out, a couple of fireworks shot into the sky.
A wedding party, Cee Jay thought. An entire town celebrating its favorite couple.
“Wanna go congratulate the happy couple?” Maddy asked with a laugh. “Throw them off balance just a little bit?”
Cee Jay shook her head. No one could see her, but if they could they would see a very melancholy, remorseful look come into her eyes. “No. I’ve played my last card here.” Then she took a deep breath, shook herself of the sentimental musing and smiled over the top of the car at her girlfriend. “So. What sounds good? Miami? Atlantic City?”
Maddy got back in the car. “You’re driving. Just get me outta here. I’ve had enough of these hicks.”
Cee Jay looked for another moment at the hundreds of people, all with what appeared to be happy, untroubled, connected lives. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah.”
*
Keep reading for an excerpt of The Wanderer by Robyn Carr!
Acknowledgment
I am deeply grateful to Sgt. Joshua Helterbran for the use of his poem “Final Inspection” in this novel.
If you loved The Newcomer, don’t miss The Wanderer, the first title in #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr’s Thunder Point series, and The Hero (September 2013), the third title in the series, featuring a small town of rocky beaches, rugged charm and people you’ll never forget!
Be sure to also catch the Virgin River series—in the redwood forests and quiet hamlets of northern California, where the men are handsome and honorable and the women are strong and beautiful, and everyone has a stake in seeing love thrive. Read them all!
Virgin River
Shelter Mountain
Whispering Rock
A Virgin River Christmas
Second Chance Pass
Temptation Ridge
Paradise Valley
“Under the Christmas Tree” (novella)
Forbidden Falls
Angel’s Peak
Moonlight Road
“Midnight Confessions” (novella)
Promise Canyon
Wild Man Creek
Harvest Moon
Bring Me Home for Christmas
Hidden Summit
Redwood Bend
Sunrise Point
My Kind of Christmas
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One
It took Hank Cooper almost eight hours to get from Virgin River to Thunder Point, Oregon, because he was towing his fifth wheel, a toy hauler. He pulled to the side of the road frequently to let long strings of motorists pass. Just prior to crossing the California/Oregon border, he stopped at a redwood tourist trap featuring gardens, souvenirs, wood carvings, a lunch counter and restrooms. Skipping the garden tour, he bought a sandwich and drink and headed out of the monument-size trees to the open road, which very soon revealed the rocky Oregon Coast.
Cooper stopped at the first outlook over the ocean and parked. His phone showed five bars and he dialed up the Coos County Sheriff’s Department. “Hello,” he said to the receptionist. “My name is Hank Cooper and I’m on my way to Thunder Point following a call from someone saying my friend, Ben Bailey, is dead. Apparently he left something for me, but that’s not why I’m headed your way. The message I got was that Ben was killed, but there were no details. I want to talk to the sheriff. I need some answers.”
“Hold, please,” she said.
Well, that wasn’t what he expected. He’d figured he’d leave a number and eat his lunch while he waited.
“Deputy McCain,” said the new voice on the line.
“Hank Cooper here, Deputy,” he said, and in spite of himself, he straightened and squared his shoulders. He’d always been resistant to authority, yet he also responded to it. “I was hoping to speak with the sheriff.”
“I’m the deputy sheriff. The county sheriff’s office is in Coquille. This is a satellite office with a few deputies assigned. Thunder Point is small—there’s a constable but no other local law enforcement. The constable handles small disputes, evictions, that sort of thing. The county jail is in Coquille. How can I help you, Mr. Cooper?”
“I’m a friend of Ben Bailey and I’m on my way into town to find out what happened to him.”
“Mr. Cooper, Ben Bailey’s been deceased for more than a couple of weeks.”
“I gather that. I just found out. Some old guy—Rawley someone—found a phone number and called me. He was killed, Rawley said. Dead and buried. I want to know what happened to him. He was my friend.”
“I can give you the details in about ninety seconds.”
But Cooper wanted to look him in the eye when he heard the tale. “If you’ll give me directions, I’ll come to the Sheriff’s Department.”
“Well, that’s not necessary. I can meet you at the bar,” the deputy said.
“What bar?”
“Ben’s. I guess you weren’t a close friend.”
“We go back fifteen years but this is my first trip up here. We were supposed to meet with a third buddy from the Army in Virgin River for some hunting. Ben always said he had a bait shop.”
“I’d say he sold a lot more Wild Turkey than bait. You know where Ben’s place is?”
“Only sort of,” Cooper said.
“Take 101 to Gibbons Road, head west. After about four miles, look for a homemade sign that says Cheap Drinks. Turn left onto Bailey Pass. It curves down the hill. You’ll run right into Bailey’s. When do you think you’ll get there?”
“I just crossed into Oregon from California,” he said. “I’m pulling a fifth wheel. Couple of hours?”
“More like three. I’ll meet you there if nothing interferes. Is this your cell number?”
“It is,” he said.
“You’ll have good reception on the coast. I’ll give you a call if I’m held up.”
“Thanks, Deputy…what was it?”
“McCain. See you later, Mr.
Cooper.”
Cooper signed off, slipped the phone into his jacket pocket and got out of the truck. He put his lunch on the hood and leaned against the truck, looking out at the northern Pacific Ocean. He’d been all over the world, but this was his first trip to the Oregon Coast. The beach was rocky and there were boulders two stories high sticking out of the water. An orange-and-white helicopter flew low over the water—a Coast Guard HH-65 Dolphin, search and rescue.
For a moment he had a longing to be back in a chopper. Once he got this business about Ben straightened out, he might get to the chore of looking for a flying job. He’d done a number of things air-related after the Army. The most recent was flying out of the Corpus Christi port to offshore oil rigs. But after a spill in the Gulf, he was ready for a change.
His head turned as he followed the Coast Guard chopper across the water. He’d never considered the USCG. He was used to avoiding offshore storms, not flying right into them to pluck someone out of a wild sea.
He took a couple of swallows of his drink and a big bite of his sandwich, vaguely aware of a number of vehicles pulling into the outlook parking area. People were getting out of their cars and trucks and moving to the edge of the viewing area with binoculars and cameras. Personally, Coop didn’t really think these mountainous boulders, covered with bird shit, were worthy of a picture, even with the orange chopper flying over them. Hovering over them…
The waves crashed against the big rocks with deadly power and the wind was really kicking up. He knew only too well how dicey hovering in wind conditions like that could be. And so close to the rocks. If anything went wrong, that helicopter might not be able to recover in time to avoid the boulders or crashing surf. Could get ugly.
Then a man in a harness emerged from the helicopter, dangling on a cable. That’s when Cooper saw what the other motorists had seen before him. He put down his sandwich and dove into the truck, grabbing for the binoculars in the central compartment. He honed in on a boulder, a good forty or fifty feet tall, and what had been specks he now recognized as two human beings. One was on top of the rock, squatting to keep from being blown over in the wind. The other was clinging to the face of the rock.
Rock climbers? They both wore what appeared to be wet suits under their climbing gear. Thanks to the binoculars, he could see a small boat bouncing in the surf, moving away from the rock. There was a stray rope anchored to the rock and flapping in the breeze. The man who squatted on top of the boulder had issues with not only the crosswind but the helicopter’s rotor wash. And if the pilot couldn’t keep his aircraft stable, the EMT or rescue swimmer who dangled from the cable would slam into the rock.