Seaside Romance

by Mia Ross

  Picking up his cell phone, he dialed her number and waited for her to answer. Without electricity, the answering machine wouldn’t pick up, and he assumed she was feeling her way around the apartment, trying to locate the handset. After a minute, he hung up and tried again. No answer.

  Ben’s eyes wandered to the French doors, which framed a good old-fashioned thunderstorm thrashing its way through Holiday Harbor. Waking Eric was never a good idea, so Ben scribbled a note about where he’d gone and left it on the kitchen table.

  It didn’t normally take long to get downtown, but tonight he had to drive around and over several downed tree limbs and power lines. When he tuned in the weather report, the forecaster was calling it an old-fashioned gale, warning folks to hunker down and stay inside until it was over.

  “Good advice,” Ben grumbled to himself. As he drove past the double-bay emergency station, he noted that both the fire truck and ambulance were gone. If things got any worse, it would be a long night for them.

  At Toyland, he didn’t bother knocking but used his key to let himself inside. “Lauren?”

  His voice echoed back at him unanswered, and he ran upstairs to check the apartment. Empty. Sheets of rain were battering the bay window, and he heard trees creaking under the force of the howling wind. Out over the harbor, a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the lighthouse in an ominous warning. Ben started counting and got to five, which meant the lightning was five miles out.

  He recalled Lauren’s comment about loving storms, and on a hunch, dialed the lighthouse. “Hi, Mavis. This is Ben Thomas. Lauren isn’t out there by any chance?”

  “Haven’t seen her today. Why?”

  When he explained, Mavis grumped, “Who’s crazy enough to go out in this?”

  “I’m thinking maybe the weather was good when she started out but turned bad later on. That can happen pretty fast this time of year.”

  “On the scanner, I heard the EMT’s called out to Schooner Point for a tree that crashed into someone’s living room. If she’s out in this, we should get a search party together and go find her.”

  “I hate to roust people for no reason,” Ben stalled. “I’m sure she’s on her way back.”

  “What if she tripped and twisted her ankle or something? She could be in trouble with the tide rising, and no one knows where she is.”

  That was what did it: the thought of Lauren caught out in the madness of an Atlantic storm, drenched and alone. “I’m leaving now. You probably oughta call the sheriff and get things moving.”

  “Do something for me, boy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When you find that sweetheart of a girl, tell her she’s a stinking moron.”

  The line clicked off, and despite his serious errand, Ben had to laugh. Leave it to Mavis to shift from maternal to spitfire in a single breath. Out in his truck, he pulled on a lined fisherman’s raincoat, then another over top of it. By the time he found Lauren, she’d welcome something warm and dry to put on.

  He stopped at the lighthouse, but Lauren still hadn’t shown up there. With the wind shrieking like a banshee and rain driving in sideways, he now shared Mavis’s concern. As he set out into the blackness, he reminded himself that Lauren was an intelligent, resourceful woman who certainly had sense enough to find shelter from the rain.

  And he knew where she’d go: to the sea caves. She’d been fascinated when he pointed them out to her, and she’d remember him saying some of them were safe at high tide. So he headed down toward the shore, where waves driven by relentless winds smashed into the coast with a vengeance that was awesome to hear.

  Deafening, actually, he realized when he shouted her name and his voice slammed back at him in a mouthful of chilling spray. Spitting out the salty water, he paused to wipe his face and tighten the storm flaps on his hood. The rescue cutter was already out in the harbor, sweeping the choppy waves with its searchlight while it plowed through the rough sea. He watched for a few moments, dreading the possibility that they’d come upon Lauren’s body floating in the water.

  With all the resolve he had, he shook off the morbid thought, knowing it served no purpose other than to slow him down. Lauren was out here somewhere, and like him, his neighbors wouldn’t stop hunting until someone found her. As he picked his way down to the narrow strip of beach, Ben sent up a silent prayer for guidance.

  If ever there was a time for divine intervention, he figured this was it.

  * * *

  By the time Lauren realized she was trapped, it was too late.

  Watching thunderclouds billowing toward shore, she lost sight of anything but the awesome power roiling through them. She strolled along, ignoring everything except the natural display of strength unlike anything she’d ever seen. Nothing but water and wind, she mused, setting her camera to automatically click frame after frame so she could watch. The core of the storm descended so fast, the clouds completely blotted out the moon and every wink of the stars she’d been admiring earlier.

  When flashes of lightning began illuminating the multistory waves, she snapped a few more manual pictures and packed up her camera. Since she had no desire to become New England’s version of a storm chaser, it was time to go home. She turned to retrace her steps, using the distant lights of the town as a guide. Had she really come that far? she wondered nervously. Not the smartest thing she’d ever done.

  Suddenly, everything blinked out, as if some giant hand had flipped a switch and shut off the power. Now, the only light shone from the beacon on the point, and it dawned on her that she was in trouble.

  As if that weren’t enough, the waves had encroached on the rocky stretch of beach she’d followed to the water’s edge, narrowing it to the width of a balance beam. The footing was treacherous, and she stumbled through icy water that tossed her around like a doll. In a desperate attempt to keep her balance, she grabbed for the jagged rocks of the cliff, slicing her hands in the process. One wave was so huge, it swept her off her feet and partway into the surf.

  Spitting out brackish water, she decided to find shelter rather than risk having the storm take her out to sea. A slightly blacker opening in the darkness off to her left told her this was one of the caves Ben and Nick had played in when they were kids. As she made her way through the opening, she couldn’t see a thing. Waking the view screen of her camera, she swept the faint light around, assessing her options.

  It was tiny, but it was dry, and she didn’t see any animal nests or droppings. Good. With frigid water lapping at her ankles, she knew she had to make a choice: stay or keep moving. If she settled in here and the tide engulfed her, she’d have to swim out through the churning water and unforgiving rocks. While she was a pretty strong swimmer, she could easily drown. But if she kept going along the shoreline, one misstep would end the same way.

  Looking up, she swallowed the fear rising in her throat. “I know You’ve got a lot going on, but if You’ve got time, I could really use some help.”

  Nothing.

  She waited a few seconds, but still got no response. Apparently, she was on her own. The next wave soaked her up to her knees, nearly shoving her into the cave against her will. Deciding that was her answer, she sloshed her way toward some rocks that formed a crude set of steps. It wasn’t much of a shelter, but she trusted that God had led her here to keep her safe until someone could rescue her.

  Using her camera like a flashlight, she carefully climbed the slippery path leading to the kind of shelf Ben had described to her Easter morning. Despite the windbreaker she was wearing, she was soaked. Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she rocked to keep her shivering muscles from seizing up all together. She might have to make a dash for it on a moment’s notice, and everything had to be ready to move. To keep her mind from dwelling on the dire possibilities, she tried singing one of her favorite songs. Against the fury of the storm, her voice sounded small and frightened. That was discouraging, so she stopped.

  Desperate for something
to do besides shiver and wait, she flipped on her camera screen again and began scrolling through pictures she’d taken during her time in Holiday Harbor. What had begun as a temporary change of venue had turned into quite the adventure, she mused with a grin. From the Easter egg hunt to the changes at Toyland to the tantalizing possibility of starting her own business, she’d gotten much more than she’d bargained for.

  When a shot of Ben and her at the wedding flashed onto the screen, she paused. Clucking like the proud father he was, Craig had gotten a shot of them on the outdoor dance floor. Caught up in the fun of the reception, they looked bright and happy in the sunlight.

  That was before she knew for certain their paths were headed in different directions, and even now the memory of that conversation made her sad. She wasn’t a sentimental person, but she couldn’t help touching Ben’s face on the little screen. As if his incredible looks weren’t enough, he was also the kindest, most caring man she’d ever met.

  At his place tonight, she’d come perilously close to asking him to delay his trip to Boston, just for a few weeks—with no strings or commitments—to see if there was a chance for their relationship to become something more than it was now. Then her failure with Jeremy had flooded in, and she’d lost her nerve. She’d rather keep Ben as a friend forever than risk losing him altogether.

  Although she’d managed to hold her ground against her growing feelings for him, it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. He’d generously taken the time to show her a different path than the one she’d chosen to follow, and she’d always be grateful to him. In her experience, people like Ben were the rarest kind of treasure.

  Smiling at the screen, she prayed she’d get a chance to tell him so.

  * * *

  Was that a light?

  In the oppressive darkness, Ben thought he’d seen a brief flash of light up ahead. The caves he’d searched so far were either empty or full of water, and he headed toward the faint bright spot he’d noticed. As he got closer, he noticed the outline of the cave and quickened his pace. It was nearly flooded, so he couldn’t get in, but he climbed the outside and got a firm hold before angling around the front with his lantern.

  “Ben?”

  The sound of Lauren’s voice, frightened but alive, washed over him like a sunbeam on a rainy day. Closing his eyes, he whispered a quick prayer of thanks. “Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?”

  “More or less. There’s an awful lot of water in here.”

  “I know. Hang on a minute. I’m gonna see if there’s another way in.” He ducked back, but returned when he heard her call out to him. “What?”

  “Thank you for coming to find me. I was so scared...” Her voice wavered, then trailed off, telling him just how terrified she’d been. Out in the storm, all alone, thinking no one would ever find her. He couldn’t begin to imagine it.

  Hoping to bolster her spirits, he said, “Well, y’know, if I let anything happen to her Playtime director, your boss’d never let me hear the end of it.”

  That got him a shaky laugh, and he resumed hunting for another entrance to the cave. After a few minutes, he returned. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

  “Bad.”

  “There’s no other way in.”

  She groaned. “Wonderful. What’s the good news?”

  “The storm’s pulling out, and the tide’s going with it. I’m guessing in a half hour or so you can walk right outta there.”

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t sound thrilled about waiting, and he couldn’t blame her. “I brought you a jacket, but I don’t think it’ll make it to you on its own. Gimme a sec.”

  He scrabbled around and found a decent-sized rock that weighed about five pounds. Taking off his top coat, he then removed the inner one, which was warm and dry. This he tied around the rock and lobbed it in to her. It hit the landing with a satisfying thud, telling him he’d hit the mark.

  “Nice shot,” she applauded, removing the coat she was wearing and pulling on the new one. Once she’d closed all the buckles and pulled up the hood, she sat back with a sigh. “Oh, that’s fabulous. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I’ll be fine now. You don’t have to wait here.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “I’ve been all over this beach trying to find you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Brightening the cave with a grateful smile, she visibly relaxed. “Thank you. Again.”

  When he noticed her rubbing her ankle, he frowned. “You didn’t say you were hurt.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. It was dark and the rocks were slippery, so I twisted my ankle. No big deal.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Don’t—”

  Before she could protest any further, Ben lifted the lantern over his head and plunged into chilly water that quickly sucked him in up to his chest. His father insisted he was part polar bear, which came in handy right now. Ignoring the cold, Ben half swam and half plowed through the small whirlpool until he got to the crude steps Lauren had obviously climbed to get to her rocky perch.

  “Whew!” he exclaimed as he plunked himself down beside her. “That’s cold even for me.”

  “You’re insane, you know that?” Despite her scolding, she was beaming at him like he was some kind of hero. That adoring look did something funky to his insides, and he focused on her injured ankle to keep her from seeing his reaction.

  “Well, it’s not broken.”

  “That’s good,” she ground between clenched teeth. That told him it hurt more than she’d ever admit, which made him want to do something to ease her pain.

  Rummaging around in the deep pockets of his jacket, he found a bandanna and used it to bind her swollen ankle. “I managed to get a call in to Mavis while I was up top. She said to tell you she’s glad you’re safe ’cause next time she sees you, she’s gonna wring your pretty little neck.”

  He mimicked the keeper’s gravelly voice, which made Lauren laugh. “I deserve that, I suppose.”

  Out in the harbor, the steady rhythm of the cutter’s searchlight shifted into a series of coordinated blinks, and Lauren asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Everyone’s out looking for you. They’re signaling with the light, to let ’em know you’re safe and they can go home.”

  “You called out a search party for me?” When he nodded, she shook her head with a frown. “It never occurred to me my stupidity could bring other people out into this storm. I feel awful.”

  “A nice donation to the Holiday Harbor Search and Rescue Fund oughta square things.”

  “First thing in the morning,” she promised. After a few moments of silence, she went on. “Can I tell you something that sounds totally nuts?”

  It was good to hear the spunk coming back into her voice, and he grinned. “Sure.”

  “Before I thought I might actually die out here, it was amazing. All that power, completely wild and uncontrollable, knowing that the ocean’s been doing this since the beginning of time and will go on doing it forever. It was—”

  “Humbling,” Ben filled in when she paused. “I know what you mean.”

  “You know what else is humbling? When I had no idea which cave would be safe, I asked God to help me find the right one.” Fixing Ben with an earnest look, she added, “And He heard me. I’m not sure I’d have had the guts to wade into this dark hole in the wall if He hadn’t given me a shove.”

  “And if you hadn’t been in here, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the light from your camera screen and would’ve kept hunting in the wrong place.”

  “After tonight, I’m convinced. I finally understand what it means to have faith, even when it’s not easy.” Resting her head back against the cave wall, she added, “I get it now.”

  He wondered if her new perspective included him, but decided this wasn’t the right time to ask—if there ever was a right time—because she’d been through a lot tonight, he figured it was best to keep things l
ight. “Better late than never.”

  She laughed again, and her voice sounded stronger when she said, “I have to tell you, in that getup you remind me of the guy on the fish-sticks box.”

  “Back at ya.”

  “But I’m much cuter.”

  He took the ribbing as a good sign. If Lauren felt confident enough to mess with him, she was fine. As for himself, the jury was still out. The thought of her being in so much danger had scared him more than anything in his life. Part of him believed that was a natural response to a sketchy situation, but the rest of him knew it for what it was.

  Despite his best efforts, Lauren Foster had sneaked around his defenses and burrowed her way into his well-guarded heart. The question was, what was he going to do about it?

  Chapter Ten

  “Come on, Ben,” Lauren chided impatiently from outside the velvet curtain. “Let me see it.”

  He’d been in there most of the morning, banging and tweaking, and a few times she’d heard the whine of his pneumatic screwdriver. The fact that she recognized the sound—and could name its source—was a clear sign she’d been spending way too much time with the man she only half-jokingly referred to as her hero. But she simply couldn’t help it. The clock was ticking on his Boston plans, and in a couple of weeks he’d be gone. The old Lauren would have pulled away to avoid being hurt when he left.

  The new Lauren wanted to tuck every precious moment with him away in her memory for safekeeping.

  Finally, he stuck his head through the opening in the drapes, holding them close to his face to keep her from getting a glimpse of his finished project. “Ready?”

  Lauren glared at her watch, then at him. “For an hour now. You’re driving me nuts.”

  He chuckled, which was far from the reaction she’d been after. “City folks. Always in such a hurry.”

  “Listen, beach boy—”

  “Beach boy,” he echoed with a broad grin. “I like that. Makes me sound like a surfer or something.”