Promise Cove

by Vickie McKeehan

  That had him glancing back up, meeting her eyes. Those eyes stayed locked on his. While desire danced in his lower belly, something else nagged around his heart. Lust he more than recognized. But this woman made him feel something else, something no other woman had ever touched. Warmth spread inside like a leisurely drift into sunshine. He forced himself to turn back to his task. He began picking up his tools and saw the baby helmet still in the box. He opened the carton, held it up. “Look at this. I can’t believe they make one of these things so small. When she wakes up we’re all set to take her for a spin.”

  Nick had no way of knowing Jordan’s thoughts were riding so close to his own. Feelings she thought were dead and buried with Scott whirled in her head, in her heart, in her belly. The man was slowly breaking down every barrier of grief she’d built for Scott. And in just a few short weeks. Where was her loyalty to him? How could she let another man into her heart so quickly? They’re just thoughts, she reasoned. I haven’t jumped him in his sleep yet, have I? She remembered their morning conversation. They were attracted to each other. They were consenting, mature adults. She’d already acknowledged she wanted him. How could she tell him she was closer to making that leap than he knew?

  After all, what exactly was she supposed to feel when the man bought a baby carrier and put it on the back of a bicycle so he could take her daughter for a ride, so they could both go for a bike ride? She knew with certainty that he had never done such a thing for anyone else.

  Despite riding a Harley, it had been a very long time since Nick Harris had ridden a nine-speed mountain bike. He wasn’t even sure he could keep it upright without falling off, so he tried it out a couple of times, stopping and starting, before trusting himself enough to have Hutton on board. But the old adage that once you learn how to ride a bike you never forgot how turned out to be true. After Nick got Hutton strapped into the seat, after he made sure she got comfortable with the sway and give of the movement, he took off down the driveway. With Jordan following on her bike, they rode up and down the long drive from the garage down to the road.

  Ten trips back and forth and Nick forgot all about bad dreams and war and forgot about how Scott had died and focused on Hutton’s joy at riding on the back of the bike. He listened to Hutton’s squeals of delight on the turns, listened to her clapping her little hands in sheer delight from the movement of the ride and the wind in her face.

  As he pedaled along the driveway, he couldn’t help but think that this was something every man should experience, this feeling akin to complete peace.

  Was it possible Nick Harris had found his own piece of heaven right here?

  Up on the hill overlooking the Phillips property, Kent pulled his Seville into the clearing and shifted into PARK. Before he’d even turned the key in the ignition Sissy crawled over the console and straddled his lap. Pulling up her skirt to reveal her bare butt, she landed a wet kiss on Kent’s mouth complete with tongue down his throat. He pushed the seat back, unzipped his trousers, and without preamble plunged into Sissy’s moist heat. Their joining lasted all of three minutes and it was over. Breathing hard, they both righted their clothes before Sissy moved back to the passenger seat, flipped down the visor to check her hair and re-apply her lipstick. Up to this point, they hadn’t said a word to each other. But now as Kent packed himself back into his pants he stared out over the rise, and told her, “Ninety days, just ninety more days and this land will belong to Springer Development.”

  “Well now Kent honey, that sounds truly optimistic, but what if the bitch makes it. She’s got that—new guy helping her out after all.”

  “Doesn’t mean a damn. She isn’t going to make it. Trust me on that. I’ve got a plan.” And with that Kent proceeded to outline his agenda.

  While Kent planned the demise of The Cove Bed and Breakfast, Jordan struggled with the decision on whether or not to hire Lilly. How could she ask the woman to give up the only income she counted on monthly to come to work at a fledgling bed and breakfast without any guarantees they’d make it? What if Sissy and everyone in town were right and she failed? She waffled back and forth daily with regularity. One day her thoughts soared over all the progress they were making and the next she’d wallow in self doubt. All she knew for certain was that there were no guarantees and that Lilly needed a regular stable income. Was Jordan ready to be anyone’s employer? It was a big step. And one she didn’t take lightly.

  The next morning Jordan got up and decided the only way to resolve the issue once and for all was to go see Lilly and find out how she felt. Knowing Lilly didn’t have a phone she called Carla Vargas for exact directions to Lilly’s trailer.

  Later that morning she and Hutton headed off bearing gifts. Packed in the backseat she had put together a picnic basket full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, a bag of apples and pears, and for dessert, dark chocolate brownies. She’d timed her arrival for ten forty-five, so that it coincided with an early lunch. She knew firsthand with toddlers it was best to get them fed and down for an afternoon nap as soon as possible.

  Derek Stovall’s land was less than a mile southeast of town. Jordan spotted Lilly’s Escort before she saw the broken down aluminum trailer about fifty yards off the road, well past the main house. As soon as she pulled up, the door of the trailer swung open as if Lilly had heard the car. Jordan watched as Lilly stepped out onto a few rickety boards that acted as a front stoop with Joey on her hip, her mouth wide with shock.

  Jordan opened the car door and shot her a smile. “I’d have called to let you know I was dropping by but you don’t have a phone.” She tugged Hutton out of her car seat and set her down on the dirt path leading to the front door. Jordan reached back inside and pulled out the basket of goodies. Waving the basket, she added, “I hope you guys haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

  “You found us out here?”

  “It wasn’t hard. I asked for directions,” Jordan confided easily. But she noticed Lilly looked uncomfortable, embarrassed.

  Without a word, Lilly stepped aside and made room for Jordan to get by. When she saw that Hutton was having trouble maneuvering around the rocks lining the way up to the steps, she set Joey back inside and went back for Hutton, carrying her through the doorframe. She stood there holding Hutton while Jordan looked around for a place to set down the basket. She spotted Kyra in the kitchen area sitting at a table with a coloring book. The little girl looked up and Jordan asked, “Anyone hungry?”

  “Me,” Kyra said clapping her hands.

  No embarrassment there, Jordan thought as she set the basket down and began unloading the food, setting out a thermos of lemonade, and paper plates. “Good. I’ve got cold fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.” She purposefully made her eyes go big as she leaned down and whispered to Kyra, “And brownies for dessert.”

  “Yay brownies,” Kyra shouted, clapping her hands again.

  “But first we eat chicken,” Jordan suggested.

  Turning to take Hutton out of Lilly’s arms, she stared into the woman’s big green eyes and saw tears glistening in the corners. “I just can’t believe you brought lunch, and came out here to see us.”

  She placed a hand on Lilly’s thin shoulder. “That’s what friends do, Lilly. In fact after we eat, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  As they spread the feast out on the table, Jordan noted the trailer’s small kitchen was spotless and smelled of disinfectant. There wasn’t a dirty dish on the counter or in the sink. She wished she could say the same thing about her own kitchen because in her haste to prepare lunch she’d left hers a mess.

  By the time the five of them, women and kids alike, hungrily dug into the food, the awkwardness had vanished. The kids created a noisy and boisterous backdrop. After they ate their fill of chicken and potatoes and pasta, they started on the brownies.

  “Okay, so the kids will have a nice sugar-high that might possibly prevent them from taking a nap any time soon. But what the hey, they’re having a
grand time.”

  “They are,” Lilly agreed as she took another bite of brownie. “These are delicious. I mean, well, everything was good, but these…you’re a fantastic cook.”

  “My mother spent years as a caterer. She’s better than I am at main dishes though. I managed to pick up a few pointers from her over the years and can only hope that will be enough to run a B & B. But my contribution to mom’s business was mainly desserts. I’m good at desserts. I won’t lie, though, I’m nervous about opening my home to people with particular taste buds. I know I’m not the world’s best cook. Okay, maybe nervous isn’t the right word, actually I’m more like scared to death. What if—the guests drive up and don’t like the looks of the place? What if—they want their money back? What if—they don’t like the rooms, or the food? The food might be the least of my worries.”

  Lilly smiled. “But what if they like the way the place looks and what if they like the rooms, and there’s no what if about it, they’ll love the food.”

  “I want to believe that. I want to think that it’s got to work. But, it’s just—what if I open on time, but I can’t make a go of it? You need security more than I can offer right now, Lilly. That’s why I haven’t brought you on board yet. You’d have to give up your assistance from the county.”

  “I thought it might be something like that, but I just wasn’t sure. I thought, you know, maybe you didn’t trust me or something since my ex is in prison.”

  “That isn’t it—at all. I don’t want you to give up your only source of income on a risk.”

  “You know Jordan I could still come out and help you get the place ready to open, dust, do laundry, you know, as a friend. I’d bring the kids with me and maybe if you just provided us with lunch.”

  “You can’t work for just lunch.” But then a thought occurred to her. “What if I paid you with something other than money, like a barter system? I might not be able to afford a salary right now anyway or the promise of a regular job until I open, but I can feed you and the kids at lunch time, plus you can bring home any other food from all the recipes I’ve been trying out lately.” She looked around the trailer. “What else do you need?” Before Lilly could answer, Jordan spotted several pieces of paper tacked up on the refrigerator door. She got up to take a closer look. “What are these?”

  “Those are just some doodles. I like to draw when the kids are down for a nap.”

  Jordan stared at what looked like to her were a lot more than doodles. They looked like works of art, water-colored oceanscapes, and a few portraits of the kids. “Oh, Lilly. I think you’ve got more talent than you know. We may have just hit upon the very thing you have to barter. These are good. Do you have any more?”

  “You want my doodling?”

  “Honey, these show real talent.” The wheels were turning inside Jordan’s head. “When I open, we could frame these and put them in prominent places around the house for sale. I bet these will be gone in a heartbeat.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Far from it. Organize your portfolio, and the next time we get together, show me what you’ve got. And Lilly, can you cook?”

  “Not as good as you but we get by.”

  “Want to learn?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Over the next week, Nick stayed so busy installing drywall, bathroom fixtures and laying new flooring he barely had time for anything other than eating and sleeping. Physically exhausted from the work, he no longer woke before two a.m. even managing a good solid six hours of sleep every now and then before the dream kicked in or Scott infringed on his psyche. His sleep routine was far from perfect, but it was a vast improvement over the past year.

  Jordan had her own demanding list of chores to get done. She finally finished painting the last bedroom. By the end of the week, they were both so worn out they decided they deserved a breather. As their reward, Jordan packed the three of them a picnic basket filled with lemonade and sandwiches. With spring in the air, they all traipsed down the trail to the cove and the beach. They’d no sooner spread out their blanket on the sand than Nick looked out over the water and said, “Is that what I think it is?”

  Jordan got to her knees, put a hand on her forehead shading her eyes and scanned the horizon for any movement on the water. All she saw were vast layers of blue coupled with lusty waves. Just as she was about to tell him she didn’t see anything, something huge and gray splashed up out of the water a good hundred yards from shore. “Oh, my God. Is that a whale? That’s a whale.” She got to her feet, grabbing Hutton. She told Nick, “Get the binoculars.” When he just kept standing there staring out to sea, she reached into the picnic hamper herself and dug around until she pulled out the binoculars.

  “Who carries field glasses?”

  “Standard picnic gear. Can’t go to the beach unprepared. Never know what you might miss,” she explained as she searched the horizon for any sign of the giant mammal. She had to wait several minutes, but when the whale resurfaced, she sucked in a breath and said, “It’s a California gray. I’m sure of it. Want a look?”

  “You bet.” He took the binoculars from her and watched as the whale came up for air again. “Wow. What a sight. Look, there’s another one off to the right. There.” He handed the binoculars back to Jordan.

  “What are the odds we’d see two migrating gray whales over lunch.”

  “It was your idea and what an idea it was. I’m starving though.” He sat back down on the blanket and dug into the basket. Grabbing the thermos he poured two generous plastic cups full of lemonade, placed them on the blanket. Absently he picked up Hutton’s sippy cup already filled with apple juice and handed it off to her just as he’d seen Jordan do. As if he were an old hand at knowing the baby’s eating habits, he automatically peeled a cheese stick from its plastic wrapping and placed it gingerly into a little fist. Hutton hungrily began gnawing on the stick.

  When Jordan finally put down the binoculars, she turned to see her daughter already enjoying lunch. The significance was not lost on her. Here was a guy not used to kids, yet he had taken to her daughter as naturally as anyone in her immediate family had. She could get used to this, get used to Nick being there for both of them. She wanted to ask him what his plans were after they opened, but she was afraid of his answer, afraid he’d tell her he had no intentions of staying in a dinky town like Pelican Pointe. She decided she didn’t want to know anymore than that. She wanted to enjoy the day, enjoy the time she had left to spend with him while he was here.

  After finishing their sandwiches they stretched out on the blanket and watched as Hutton ran around on the beach after Quake. But it didn’t take long for both dog and baby to run out of gas and began to wind down about the same time. When Hutton began rubbing her eyes, Jordan picked her up, announcing, “It’s time for someone’s nap.”

  “Give her to me,” Nick suggested.

  “And what are you going to do with a cranky baby?”

  “We’re going to curl up here and take us a nap, aren’t we Hutton?”

  Yeah right, Jordan thought, see if she goes to sleep like that. But she handed him the baby anyway. Five minutes later, after she’d packed up the basket, she looked over at the pair lying side by side on the blanket. Both had their eyes closed. Amazed, she dropped down beside them, stretched out her legs to relax in the warm sunshine.

  Forty-five minutes later Jordan came awake only to see Nick grinning at her as Hutton lay sandwiched between them. Rubbing her eyes, she told him, “She’s never done that before. I’ve never done that before.”

  “What? Take a nap at the beach?”

  “Yeah. I need to put her down so she’ll get her nap out and not wake up cranky though.”

  He got to his knees. “You get the basket and blanket, I’ll carry Hutton.”

  As she folded the blanket before grabbing the basket, Nick stood to the side watching her. She looked radiant. When had he ever used that word to describe a woman, any woman? Never. But he couldn’t den
y how he felt at this moment. Watching the sunlight glisten off her hair, she all but gave off vibes of pleasure. And when was the last time he’d relaxed enough to fall asleep during the day?

  When they got back to the house, just like he’d done before, he laid Hutton down in the crib. He went through all the rituals of tucking the baby in as he’d seen Jordan do. It hit him like a fist to the gut. Contentment. Joy. Love. At the realization, he sucked in a ragged breath and all but staggered out of the room. He quickly made his way outside onto the front porch where his knees buckled just in time to plunk down onto the steps. In love? How the hell had that happened? He didn’t believe in love, certainly not marriage. His gut rippled with nerves. What now? he wondered. And what did he intend to do about it?

  It was later that afternoon when they were all three once again outside sitting in the backyard in the Adirondack chairs enjoying what promised to be a beautiful evening that Nick got up and disappeared around the corner of the house. Jordan heard water running from the outside faucet. Moments later, he came back, grinning, carrying two huge super soaker water guns in each hand.

  Jordan saw the gleam in his eye and knew what was about to happen. “Nick Harris, don’t you dare!”

  He cocked one brow before sending a steady stream of water her way, hitting her squarely in the chest, soaking her shirt. Rising to the challenge, she got to her feet, grabbing the other gun from where he’d dropped it on the grass. She darted around after him, firing at will. They exchanged shots, running and dodging each other’s fire power. Soon Hutton and Quake joined in the chase. Before long, all four of them were soaking wet.

  Nick plopped down on the grass, wringing out some of the excess water by squeezing the tail end of his shirt. “Good way to clean up Hutton and Quake every night, don’t you think? Take them both out back here and hose them down every night before bed with a couple of super soakers. Less hassle.”