Shelby searched out the familiar hand and footholds, carefully pulling herself up onto the ledges. A breeze kicked up off the water, brushing against her skin as she settled herself into her usual place, set up high on the ledges and well away from the waves that scared her.
There were no boats and no planes in sight tonight. There was nothing but the wind to make a noise. Shelby settled back against the rocks to wait.
After only twenty minutes, the night air had managed to put a chill deep into her bones. Clouds were moving in fast, making the sheltered cove even darker and erasing the line of the horizon against the night sky.
She was a fool to think that something suspicious had happened. Despite her suspicious mind, nothing ever happened in Chandler. The most they’d ever had to deal with were cut lines and the occasional turf war.
With a sigh, Shelby readied herself to once again make the trek back home. A good nights sleep would help her forget her troubles, especially her problems with her brother.
Her dark mood returned as she thought about Josh. The look on her uncle’s face when he’d returned from searching for her brother had been enough to scare her all over again. Josh’s disappearance had once again brought up all the horrible feelings that Tommy’s death had caused.
Shelby started picking her way back down the ledge, seeking out hand and foot holes in the rock.
What had happened to Tommy had been an accident, a twist of fate that he’d brought on himself. Part of her understood what Josh didn’t. She could see the senselessness and randomness of Tommy’s death. It could easily happen again. Only this time it could be Josh.
As her feet touched the sand again, she heard the sound. The wind was calmer tonight, the sound carrying father and growing clearer as the plane approached.
Shelby crouched down in a crevice of rocks as she listened to the plane draw closer. It was approaching low and from the east just as it had before.
In the darkness, the only distinguishable marking were the small marker lights and the shadowy outline of large landing pontoons.
The plane moved low over the cove before making a sharp turn and heading back again over the open water. A shiver ran through her. She wanted to make sure she watched everything, taking in every note, every detail.
One thing was clear. She hadn’t been imagining she’d seen the other night. There really had been something out there.
The roar of the engines echoing off the rocks deafened her as she strained to hear above it, listening for a splash. The plane circled the cove once more and then headed back out over the water, hugging the shoreline.
Shelby crept down from her hiding place as the sound of the plane died out. She’d hoped to get answers to some of her questions, but there was nothing clear about what she’d seen. Whatever was going on was still a mystery.
The smart thing to do would be to call the Sheriff and let him know what she’d seen. But what could she tell him? She knew nothing more than a suspicious plane had circled the cove. It was probably nothing more then some idiot out practicing his night flying?
Shelby was still mulling over what she’d seen the next morning as Roe and John Henry grumbled about the strange happenings that been witnessing, happenings that she’d discounted as their eccentric ramblings.
As the old men gathered over their morning coffee, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t have an opinion on the odd comings and going. They’d been speculating for weeks, but up until now she’d just credited it to the substantial gossip network running through the harbor.
In a town like Chandler, small things had a tendency to get bigger, as stories were told and retold until they became monumental. She’d never been one to pay much attention to what was being pushed about, but after last night she had to admit that maybe there was something to it this time.
She thought again about mentioning the plane sighting to someone, but to whom? The Sheriff? He’d only suggest she get more sleep and stay off the point at night. She could mention it to her uncle, but right now he was too busy chasing after Josh to worry about her late night sightings.
No, she’d keep her mouth shut and her eyes open. If it happened again she’d tell someone then.
Pushing at the ancient keys of the old manual cash register, Shelby totaled up the order Marianne had asked her to deliver. The elderly, arthritic artist lived in a secluded home out on the point with only her cat for company. Marianne had enough money to hire someone to look after her, but she’d lived alone for so long she refused to call upon anyone for help.
Shelby looked up from the pile of cat food in time to see her newest boarder come striding into the store. He waved a hand in greeting and gave her one of those smiles that set her heart beating faster.
All morning long, she’d tried hard to convince herself that her interest in Jamie Rivard was simple curiosity. It was her imagination at best. But now, seeing him there, larger-than-life, she wasn’t quite sure it was mere curiosity.
“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” She forced a smile and leveled what she hoped was a polite, but disinterested look in his direction. It was a mistake. He wasn’t wearing the sunglasses today, and as he walked toward her she was able to get a good look at his eyes. They were the color of a graying ocean tide with a storm coming, fierce, ominous and powerful.
Shelby had to concentrate to keep her mouth from hanging open and embarrassing her. She really needed to get a life. When she began seeing dating possibilities in her boarders it was a sure sign she needed to make a change. The next thing she knew she’d be after Monroe and John Henry, and both of those old fishermen were in their eighties.
“I missed you this morning. You were already up and gone by the time I got up.”
The tone was intimate, much more so than she was comfortable with. Thank goodness, there was only Monroe and John Henry in the store to overhear. Even if his words were purely casual, the town’s gossip network would make her a branded woman by nightfall. And within a couple of days, they’d have them engaged and on their way to the altar. All, without leaving the confines of their own snug little houses.
“You must get up pretty early to get here and get everything done. It has to be a big job doing all this by yourself.” His voice was a mix of a soft caress and a yawning purr. Goodness, the man could give the maritime broadcast and make it sound sexy.
Shelby did her best to concentrate on setting items on the counter and checking her list.
“I always leave before dawn. We’re busy first thing in the morning and then the wharf business picks up in the afternoon. Most of my work happens before the sun is up.” She finished ringing up the other items and placed them in the bag with the other stuff. Then she placed the bags in a blue plastic box.
Like an idiot, she was doing everything in her power to avoid looking at him and it was unnerving her. She hadn’t felt this kind of attraction for anyone in a very long time and she certainly wasn’t used to the heated feelings that came with the unfamiliar territory. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so out of sorts.
Shelby tried to ignore him as he walked around the store, picking up items here and there. She was being foolish, but she just didn’t know what else to do. She was a capable and responsible woman. For goodness sake, she was a widow with two businesses to run. She didn’t have time to be mooning over a man she’d just met.
“I was just wondering when it is that you do sleep?”
Her heart fluttered as he stopped next to her and leaned over to inspecting a small seagull miniature glued to a piece of driftwood, a tourist trinket. He was close, too close. She could smell his soap and feel him much too close to her.
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Mr. Rivard?” She said stiffly. “I don’t think my sleep patterns are of much concern to you.” Now that sounded huffy. She grimaced a little and fidgeted with the bags and items as she put them into the box. She was beginning to sounds like a crazy old lady.
Setting the last of the item into the bo
x, Shelby began to pick it up when Jamie reached down, swing the box out of her reach and lifting the box by the handles onto the edge of the counter.
But not before she saw the slightest falter in his movements.
The hesitation was nothing more than an unsteady hitch in his rise. She’d been right to suspect that he had some sort of injury. Whatever it was, it appeared he didn’t want to call attention to it.
“I notice a lot of things about you. Including, the late night walk you took last night. It must have been a nice out there. Maybe you’ll allow me to come with you sometime?”
He’d seen her leave? Shelby dared a look at him and saw the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. She looked away, embarrassed as a schoolgirl. What was it about this man that made her alternate between irritation and attraction?
“I don’t think you’d like walking with me, Mr. Rivard. I walk a very brisk pace around the point. I found that it helps to clear my head and help me sleep.”
“I’m not above a good, brisk walk,” he said. “Besides, it’ll help me get a lay of the land around here. You wouldn’t want me to get lost, would you?”
She shook her head. “This is a small town. There’s only one way in and one way out. If you get lost then you have bigger issues then I can help.”
But the reality was that she wasn’t sure she wanted to include him in her walks. Up until lately, those walks had been her saving grace, her chance to try and get her life back together. They offered her peace and calm in a world that wasn’t always so easy. She wasn’t sure she was willing to give that up. Even for a pretty smile.
“Besides, I’m guessing that you won’t be around long enough to be going on any walks with me.”
“Ouch,” he said, smiling at her. “Maybe, or maybe not. We’ll see.”
The man was a master of saying the most with a minimal amount of words.
“Just how long are you going to be here, Mr. Rivard?”
He shrugged, pushing away from his spot against the counter.
“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out. Unless, of course, you’re concerned that I’m going to skip out of the rent.”
They both knew that she wasn’t really worried about that.
“No, I think you can be trusted… to pay the rent.”
Her hesitation was enough to emit a laugh from him. “I assure you, I can be trusted.”
Shelby pulled the box back toward her, momentarily catching him off guard as she hoisted it off the counter and headed in the direction of the door. But within seconds, her arms ached from the pull of the box and she regretted her attempt at pride. She was almost to the door when her conscience began nagging. Jamie may be a stranger, but she was raised to be polite.
Balancing the box on crate by the door, Shelby turned, expecting to find Jamie still standing by the counter. Instead, she found herself facing an expanse of white cotton fabric, stretched taught across his broad shoulders. She sighed. They were nice shoulders.
The box started to slide from her hands and she grabbed for it, her fingers fumbling against his as he reached out to help her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just going to get the door for you.” He stepped around her, opening the door and levering his back against it to hold it open.
“I can I take that for you, if you’d like? It looks heavy.”
He smelled good; too good.
Shelby shook her head as she struggled to hoist the box up to a comfortable level. Having him so close was wreaking havoc on her senses. Her fingers refused to do what she wanted them to do, and her brain was incapable of forming intelligent responses.
“I've got it,” She grumbled. “I just didn’t realize you were behind me. You could scare a person half to death sneaking up on them like that.”
Jamie held open the door wide for her as she stepped out onto the granite steps. Evidently, she’d been cooped up in the store for too long. Her uncle was right, it was time to get a life.
Before she realized his intention he had reached out and taken the box from her.
“Do you mind if I tag along and help you make your delivery? I have some time this morning since I’m not going out on the boat with your uncle until tomorrow.”
“I'm not going far. I'm just taking this out to a lady that lives on the point.”
Jamie stood in front of her, squinting at her in the sunlight. “This an olive branch. I’m offering an apology for the way I acted the other day. Besides, that box is pretty heavy. I think you put rocks in it.” He smiled at her. “Not that I don't have total confidence that you can handle it.”
Maybe he really was trying to make amends. “I guess it is heavier than I thought. If you want to help me take it out to her I’ll treat you to lunch.” She must be a fool. He’d offered help and she’d offered him lunch.
“That's great. I’m starving.”
As if it were the easiest thing in the world, Jamie strode toward the truck with the box in hand and hoisted it over the back of the truck, settling it behind the cab.
Shelby followed along behind him, silently cursing herself. It was just an offer of help, nothing more. She reached for the door handle, but Jamie's hand had already closed over the latch. He pulled open the truck's door for her, ushering her in and closing it behind her. All of this courtesy could go to her head.
Jamie crossed around to his side of the truck and got in, slamming the door behind him. The truck was old, but it looked reliable. The cab was filled with a collection of papers, trap heads and rubber gloves.
“Sorry about the mess. I don’t get much time to clean up the old truck.”
He rolled down the window and settled his arm on the door as though it was the most common thing in the world.
“Don’t worry. I’ll survive. Besides it isn’t every day I get to have a pretty lady chauffeur me around.”
Heat braced her cheeks as he flashed a heart-stopping grin her way. It may have been a long time since he’d had a chauffeur, but it was even longer since she’d gotten a compliment.
The trip was made in relative silence. The only sound was the static conversation of the fishermen on the dash-mounted radio. The dirt road to the point was a maze of ruts, covered at times by the canopy of trees that clustered next to the road. Shelby maneuvered the truck around the majority of the holes that were big enough to engulf the truck.
“Your friend lives out here alone? It’s rather remote, isn’t it?” He braced himself for another bump.
“She likes it that way. I should warn you before we get there that Marianne is a rather unique lady. She’s an artist.”
She navigated the truck around another pothole. “She’s quite successful, but you’d never know it to talk to her. She prefers to live out here alone rather than be around a lot of people.”
She pulled the truck into a driveway hidden among a bank of beach roses.
“Have you known her a long time?”
“Since I was a little girl. After my mom died I’d get lonely and she’d let me come and watch her paint.”
Shelby stopped the truck at the gate and Jamie jumped out to swing it open before climbing back into the truck.
The gravel road gave way to a paved driveway that twisted around until the house came into view.
Late summer flowers bloomed among the masses of white, purple and pink hydrangea bushes lining the driveway. A green lawn dotted with bright blossoms swept downward toward a weathered gray cape that was perched on the ledges overlooking the water.
“Here we are,” she said as she pulled the truck up next to an aging Volvo and cut the ignition.
Jamie jumped out and pulled the box out of the back of the truck, following along behind her as she walked toward the house.
Over the top of the box, he watched the sway of Shelby’s hips as her booted feet scuffed along the walkway. She was wearing those faded jeans again, the ones that hugged to her long, slim legs. She was wearing a pink polo shirt with the word Chandler st
itched in blue on it and the fabric rode up a little as she walked.
She had a very nice walk. Shelby Teague was a woman who walked with confidence, easily eating up the distance to the house and giving him a great chance to observe her. It wasn’t a wiggle, more of an educated sway. There was nothing girlish about her. There were no fancy clothes, no designer shoes, and yet, he couldn’t help noticing that she was a very beautiful woman.
Which was exactly the reason why he was having a hard time remembering that Shelby was off limits to him. She wasn’t his type. He’d carefully cultivated a preference for women who loved to have a good time, but had no illusions when it came to commitment.
No, Shelby Teague was a staying kind of woman. She had proven herself a remarkable, self-confident and determined woman who could handle anything and do it well.
But damn, she really was beautiful. Too bad she wasn’t his type.
Shelby knocked on the door.
“I’m working. Use the key,” was the muffled reply. Shelby pulled out a key on the chain she had around her neck and slid it over her head. She fit the key into the lock and swung open the door.
Jamie followed her into a bright, sunny kitchen with high white cabinets and big windows that faced out over the lawn. The walls were painted a brilliant turquoise color and the room was simply furnished with a table and chairs. But what surprised him most was that everywhere he looked there was something with a cat on it.
Jamie set the box on the counter next to a collection of mugs, plates and placemats with cats on them. Even the curtains at the window had pictures of felines on them.
An orange tabby cat came in and wound herself around his legs, rubbing her face against his jeans. Jamie reached down and scratched the cat under the chin until it sat back on its haunches, a loud purr growling from it in pure pleasure.
“Meribelle, you old reprobate,” Shelby laughed. “You love a good scratch, don’t you? You just know that I brought your food for you.”
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