by Mia Ross
“How nice of you to say. If you need a place to work, you’re welcome to use my side table.”
“Thanks, but this is all I have.” When she pulled her tablet out of her messenger bag, Bree was thrilled to see it was receiving a strong signal. She also had a dozen emails, which was a wonderful change from the leper status she’d been suffering through the past few months.
“Looks good?” Cooper asked as he led the way through to a hallway that ran the full width of the building.
“Excellent.”
Mrs. Andrews set their coffee tray down and left the two of them in Cooper’s office. Again Bree was awestruck by the surroundings. More wainscoting, but she also noticed his large Yale Law School diploma beautifully matted out in blue and silver. Looking closer, she saw he’d graduated with full honors. Oil paintings of seascapes hung along the walls, and massive shelves bracketed a wide window open to the breeze. She’d never had an office, and she couldn’t recall the last building she’d worked in that had had functional windows. Of course most of them had been in places where you probably didn’t want to be breathing the air, anyway.
Sammy seemed to approve, and he stretched out on the Oriental runner in front of Cooper’s dark pedestal desk. Resting his chin on his paws, he gave a contented doggy sigh and closed his eyes.
When Cooper picked up the phone, Bree grabbed her coffee and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’ll go out front to give you some privacy. I mean, like Mrs. Andrews said, this is confidential stuff.”
“Sometimes, but not now.” He motioned her to a long leather sofa that spanned the wall between the windows. “Make yourself at home,” he added as he ripped open the mystery package.
She was unaccustomed to people making such an effort to help her feel at ease. Usually they were testing her, or competing with her. Or worse. She had to admit, his approach was a refreshing change of pace. “Okay. Thanks.”
“No problem. Hello, Jeremy, this is Cooper Landry. I just heard from the estate that owns the property you’re interested in out near Beaver Woods, and I’ve got good news for you.”
After that the conversation devolved into real estate speak, which Bree easily tuned out. Her tablet seemed horribly out of place in the old-fashioned room, but she put that out of her mind and clicked the email icon.
As she reconnected with the world, a string of messages from Nick popped up in her in-box, and she smiled at the subject lines.
Howz it goin?
Still in HH?
Where’s my intro?
She opened the latest one, sent earlier this morning, and typed, In HH, going fine, story on its way.
Glancing across the room, she saw Cooper at his own keyboard but refrained from looking at the monitor to see what he was doing. Her eyes drifted down to the sleeping dog, and she thought back over their very eventful day. Words began arranging themselves in her head, and she started typing before they vanished.
She wrote a vivid description of Holiday Harbor, to make people want to pack up the kids and the car and head to northern Maine. After a quick proofread, she emailed it to him before she had a chance to think better of it. Less than five minutes later her email alert chimed with his reply: Perfect.
She stared at it for a long time, hardly daring to trust what she’d seen. But it didn’t change, and she relaxed. Absorbing what it meant, she savored the praise from the man she hoped would become her new editor.
Maybe, she thought with a smile, this wacky assignment would prove to be the fresh start she needed.
Chapter Six
Bree shook her head when Cooper and his passenger pulled in at the lighthouse on Sunday morning. “Let me guess. He wouldn’t let you leave.”
Sammy was stretched out across the entire backseat of the open-air car. Hearing her voice, he whacked his tail and panted his version of “hello.”
“I felt bad leaving him inside, and I couldn’t trust him to stick around a strange place till I got back.”
“You’re such a softie.” She reached over the side to give Sammy a little love, then swung into her seat and fastened her seat belt.
“Do me a favor and keep it under your hat.”
“I’ve got news for you, counselor. Everyone already knows.”
She made that sound like a good thing, and he smiled as he drove back up the lane. “I’ve got some news I think you’re gonna like. The vet got hold of Sammy’s owners, and they came to my place last night.”
Was it his imagination, or did she frown before asking, “Oh, yeah? What did they say?”
“They were friends of his original owners, who moved to Cleveland and didn’t feel right confining him to an apartment. Anyway, this family’s had him for more than a year, and he’s run away six times. They’ve tried a kennel with a run, invisible fence, everything but tying him up while they’re gone.”
“Which would be mean,” she insisted sternly.
She really had a thing for this dog, Cooper realized. Maybe the icy heart image she projected so well was her way of ensuring she didn’t get hurt. The fact that she’d mentioned previous mistakes but didn’t elaborate spoke volumes about just how hard a fall she’d taken.
He could relate to that.
“Anyway,” he continued, “they wanted to meet me, to make sure I’ll take good care of him. I passed muster, so Sammy’s mine.”
The Newfie barked, and she laughed. “I think he’s psyched about that.”
Feeling pretty chipper himself, Cooper grinned. “So am I.”
After a couple of miles the chronic impatience he’d noticed in Bree yesterday finally bubbled to the surface. “There are three churches right in town. Where are we going?”
“The Captains’ Chapel. It was built in 1852, and my family’s been going there ever since.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
Angling to face him, she pressed. “Why? What makes it so special?”
“You’ll see.”
“The last time you said that, we ended up with him.”
She pointed a thumb back at Sammy, and Cooper wondered if she realized she’d said “we” instead of “you.” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he liked the sound of it. Probably more than he should have. “Surprises can be good, Bree.”
“Not in my world.”
Her bitter response sounded like an opening, and he suspected she’d confide in him if he nudged her a little. “Tell me about Boston.”
She groaned, but faced him directly when she answered. “The paper I was working for had a team doing a series on senators running for reelection. One day I found out the incumbent was in town. Secretly.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“It was.” She sighed. “Anyway, I managed to find out where he was headed and got there first. It was a strip club, and I saw him pull some money out of his wallet for a young blonde dancer. Then he gave her a long hug and walked her out to his car. When they drove off together, you can imagine what I thought.”
Cooper personally knew the senator she was talking about, a highly respected man who’d devoted his life to public service. “I don’t have to imagine. I read about it on some blog before the facts were clear. Half the people in the country did.”
If he’d known Bree had been responsible for breaking the false story, he never would have agreed when Nick suggested she cover Holiday Harbor. No doubt his old buddy had suspected as much, which was why he’d neglected to mention it.
“I was so wrong,” she confided in a voice filled with regret. “She was his granddaughter, and he’d snuck away from a campaign appearance to beg her to come home. The money he gave her was to pay off her landlord, and he took her with him so she wouldn’t run away again. He was there to
rescue her, and I made him look like a perverted old man.”
Cooper wasn’t exactly thrilled with her right now, and he didn’t bother hiding his opinion. “You’re fortunate he didn’t sue you.”
“His lawyer wanted him to, but the senator came to see me first. That’s how I finally learned the truth, and I was mortified. When I apologized, he stared down at me as if he was trying to decide how to punish a child. Then he said he believed everyone deserves a second chance and promised not to take me to court. I thought he was nuts.”
“It’s called forgiveness,” Cooper informed her coolly. “And not many would’ve done what he did. Your second chance came straight out of the Bible. You can look it up.”
She gave him a long look, then continued. “My boss wasn’t as generous, and since my track record isn’t that great, he took advantage of a golden opportunity to get rid of me. Mad as I was, I couldn’t really blame him. I screwed up one time too many, and paid the price.” Sitting back, she folded her hands in her lap and stared blankly out the windshield. “So that’s my shameful story, Mr. Mayor. Not very pretty.”
What an understatement, he thought grimly, fearing her tendency to jump to conclusions would negatively affect her portrayal of his hometown. Not for the first time, he considered telling her to forget about the article and go back to Richmond.
Then again, she seemed honestly sorry for what she’d done. Oddly enough it was her quick connection with Reggie and Sammy that ended his internal debate. Anyone who bonded with animals that way couldn’t be all bad.
Since he shared the senator’s philosophy on second chances, he opted to follow the man’s gracious example. “Maybe not, but Nick’s convinced you’ve learned your lesson. He and I might not always see eye to eye, but he’s usually bang-on when it comes to people. I’ll trust his judgment on this one.”
“Are you serious?”
He chuckled. “Not always, but this time, yes.”
Cooper didn’t say anything more, but he could almost hear the wheels spinning in her head while she tried to decide if he truly meant what he’d said. When they drove around a curve and headed toward the water’s edge, he glanced over to gauge her reaction.
Her wide-open mouth was all the approval he could have asked for.
Slightly up off the water the pale gray chapel blended seamlessly with the massive chunk of granite it was built on. Beyond it stretched miles of open ocean, the bluish-green water sparkling like jewels as the waves ebbed and flowed. Not a single cloud marred the scene, allowing full sunshine to light the picture-perfect view.
“It’s breathtaking,” she murmured, reaching for her camera. “Can we stop here a minute?”
Mentally patting himself on the back, Cooper pulled over. “Sure. Take your time.”
These were the images he wanted people to see. Coupled with Bree’s vivid words, they’d showcase all that Holiday Harbor had to offer. Unspoiled and wild, it was the only place he’d ever been that could make him forget everything but how incredibly beautiful God’s handiwork was.
When she was finished snapping pictures, he parked in the small gravel lot and reached back to clip the leash on Sammy’s collar. The Newfie gave him an “are you kidding me?” look, and Cooper wagged a finger at him. “I know you’re not going anywhere, but we’ve got rules around here. Since you’re with me, they’ll let you in, but we have to make it look good.”
The dog sighed, but jumped down and patiently plodded alongside Cooper. Bree, not so much.
“This is awesome!” Rushing toward the door, she paused beside the old ship’s bell that hung in the place of honor. The antique brass was kept at a mirror polish, and she leaned in to read the inscription. Sarah Anne. 1850. Twenty-nine souls surrendered to God.
“Jeremiah Landry’s ship,” Cooper explained. “A bad storm threw her onto the rocks, and he went down with her. His pregnant wife, Sarah, was waiting at the pier for him and saw the whole thing. The following year she convinced the town to build the lighthouse.”
Bree got a few shots of the chapel, and several close-ups of the bell. Lowering her camera, she gave him a thoughtful look. “It’s unusual for a family to be so rooted in one place these days. Nice, though,” she added quickly.
After enduring her not-so-subtle digs at his hometown, he found her kinder attitude much easier to take. “Yeah, I like it. Should we head inside?”
She eyed the open double doors as if she expected them to swallow her whole. Cooper had met plenty of folks who were uncomfortable with going to church. Seemed like she was one of them, but he was counting on her innate curiosity to help her overcome that. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Sure.”
The clipped response sounded uncertain, but he ignored that and strolled confidently inside. Just in case Sammy got restless, Cooper chose a seat in the back. Now that he thought about it, Bree would do better here, too. It was such a pleasant morning, the pastor would leave the doors open to let in the breeze. With the sunshine and blue sky just a glance away, she’d probably feel more at ease near the edge of the congregation.
Several people stopped to wish them a good morning and meet the already notorious Sammy, who obligingly allowed them to pet him and say what a handsome dog he was. If Cooper didn’t know better, he’d think the Newfie was playing the crowd.
“What a ham,” Bree muttered while she flicked through pictures on her camera.
“That reminds me, the vet only had one bag of food for him. I need to pick up some more.”
“Lots more.”
They traded a smile, and he caught that rare sparkle in her eyes. How many men other than him had seen it? During dinner the other night, she’d seemed content with her single status. Still it was hard to believe she’d never bent the rules for someone, and he wondered what it would take for her to put them aside.
Almost immediately he chided himself for going there. He’d had more than his fill of driven career women, no matter how good a heart they were hiding beneath all that ambition.
* * *
The pastor moved through the chapel, greeting people here and there with a handshake and a friendly smile. He was a lot younger than she’d anticipated, probably only a few years older than Cooper. When his eyes landed on her, Bree’s impulse was to duck behind Cooper and remain as invisible as possible. Everyone knows you’re in town, she reminded herself sternly. Buck up and act like an adult.
Sitting up a little straighter, she gave the man what she hoped came across as a pleasant nod. His dark eyes lit up, and he made a beeline for the back of the church. Her heart racing with panic, she searched her mind for something to say when he got there.
To her great relief he brushed past her and knelt on the floor to pet the sprawling Newfie’s head. “Hello there, big fella. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
“No doubt.” Cooper grinned over at him. “Pastor Allen, this is Sammy.”
The minister held out his hand, and the dog shook it as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. “Pleased to meet you, Sammy.” He stood and focused on Bree. “And you, Miss Farrell. I’m thrilled to see you this morning.”
“Thank you.” Not to be outdone by a dog, she offered her hand. “You have a beautiful church.”
“We think so. I’m sure Cooper told you some of its history, but if you have any questions, just let me know.”
“She’s my guest,” Mavis interrupted from behind him. “Any questions she’s got about this town, I’ll be answering them.”
Inserting herself between the two of them, she plunked herself down on the bench next to Bree and opened a hymnal. Squinting at the board listing today’s songs, she licked her fingertip and flipped through the yellowed pages to the opening hymn.
“I don’t want to start a fight or anything,” Bree hedged, glancing at Cooper for backup. Sudde
nly fascinated by the ceiling fan spinning overhead, he was no help at all.
“You’re not,” the pastor assured her with a generous smile. “Mavis is our town historian. If you’ll excuse me, I see some more new faces today.”
After he’d gone, Bree leaned in and whispered to Mavis, “That wasn’t very nice. He was only trying to help.”
“You’ve got all the help you need, honey.”
The older woman cast a sidelong look at Cooper, then eyed Bree with a “you know what I mean” kind of expression. Unfortunately Bree had no clue what she was supposed to understand. Then it hit her, and she laughed quietly. “Pastor Allen’s single, isn’t he?”
Mavis nodded. “He’s nice enough, but he’s not right for you.”
“I’m leaving Tuesday morning,” Bree pointed out. “What could possibly happen between now and then?”
Another look at Cooper, who’d finally decided to pay attention to their odd little exchange.
“Mavis,” he said in a firm but gentle tone, “Bree has a life in Richmond to get back to.”
The logical explanation tripped right off his tongue, and normally Bree would have agreed without even thinking about it. But these days it wasn’t actually true, and she almost said so. Then she thought again and decided against it. Nothing was pulling her back to Richmond, but she didn’t want anyone getting the idea that spending extra time in Holiday Harbor was on her list of things to do.
Bree had accepted Cooper’s invitation to attend services as a way to study another element of daily life in the close-knit community. She hadn’t been to church since her mother used to drag her there as a child, so she was sorely out of practice. She carefully followed Cooper’s lead, and he thoughtfully pointed out the readings and hymns so she could keep up. When the pastor began a sermon on fortitude, she forced herself to stare at the pulpit and listen.
Bree hated being preached to, and she’d endured so much of it lately she’d become adept at tuning it out. But Pastor Allen’s sermon was more like a story, focused on a fisherman lost in a hurricane. Praying to God for guidance, he navigated his boat through the storm and his faith in the Almighty was rewarded with a safe harbor. There, the crew were able to make repairs and restock their food for the long journey home.