Seaside Blessings

by Irene Hannon

  Chest heaving, she rolled away. Grabbed the limb she’d dropped. Started to rise.

  “Kristen! It’s okay.” Clint sprinted toward her.

  She stared up at him as he approached, still poised to fight, every muscle taut, her knuckles white around the piece of wood.

  Once he verified the lion was no longer a threat, he knelt in front of her and did a quick assessment. Her face was white, her eyes were glassy and she was shaking badly.

  “Kristen...” He reached over and touched her cold cheek, swallowing past his sudden hoarseness. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Where’s Beatrice?”

  “I—I’m back here.”

  He pivoted to find the little girl peeking out from inside the tree. She was enveloped in Kristen’s yellow slicker, her complexion as colorless as her mother’s.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “N-no. Can I c-come out now?”

  “Yes. Stand by me, okay?”

  The child approached him, making a wide circle around the mountain lion. “Is Aunt Kristen all right?”

  “She will be.” He turned his attention back to the woman crouched in front of him and tried to pry the limb out of her hands. She wouldn’t relinquish her grip. He got up close to her, forcing her to focus on him. “Kristen, it’s okay. You can let go. The mountain lion is dead.” He spoke the words slowly, his gaze locked on hers.

  She blinked, and her eyes began to clear. But as they did, her shaking intensified and she choked out a sob. “Beatrice...”

  “Is right here.” Clint drew the little girl forward.

  “Thank You, God!” Kristen pulled her into a fierce hug.

  That was when Clint noticed the tear in the sleeve of her sweater.

  And the blood.

  Easing Beatrice back, he leaned closer to examine the two deep scratches on Kristen’s forearm.

  Claw marks.

  From an animal that had a strong chance of being rabid.

  Only a mountain lion that was very sick or very hungry would risk attacking an adult human. Usually they went out of their way to avoid people and remain invisible.

  He took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer heavenward. Please, Lord, spare her that. With everything else she’s dealing with, she doesn’t need a painful series of shots.

  “He must have clipped you as he fell.” As he spoke he pulled his radio off his belt with one hand and lowered his backpack to the ground with the other. Working it open, he continued in a tone he hoped sounded more calm than he felt. “You might need a few stitches. Let me put in an emergency call and then I’ll do some preliminary cleanup.”

  The radio crackled to life, and he gave his boss a quick recap. “We’re going to need to get the animal tested right away.”

  “You’ve got injuries?”

  “A minor maul.”

  “Do you need me to send in paramedics or have an ambulance dispatched?”

  “No.” Kristen was focused on her daughter as she responded, and somehow she summoned up a shaky smile for the frightened little girl as she took her hand. “I’ll walk out. That won’t be a problem.”

  Clint wasn’t as certain of that, but he understood her reasoning. Beatrice had been traumatized by the incident, too. The lower-key they could play this, the better. And she could lean on him.

  As much as she needed to.

  For as long as she needed to.

  “No.” He spoke into the radio. “We’ll come out on our own and I’ll drive her to the hospital in Eureka myself.”

  “Okay. Give me a location on the lion and I’ll get someone in there in less than thirty minutes.”

  As Clint complied, he kept an eye on Kristen. Her shaking hadn’t subsided, nor had her pallor abated. Her respiration was also shallow.

  She was on the verge of shock.

  He ended the call as quickly as he could, then opened his first-aid kit.

  “Wow. That puts mine to shame.” She tried to joke, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “Beatrice, honey, would you sit behind Kristen and unwrap this for me?” He removed a Mylar blanket and handed it to her. “And open this too, please.” He passed her a PowerBar. While those tasks did need to be done, he was more interested in keeping her occupied while he examined Kristen’s scratches. The youngster didn’t need to be exposed to the blood.

  Kristen flinched but remained silent as he carefully rolled back the sleeve of her ripped sweater, cleaned the cuts, applied antibiotic ointment and taped a sterile pad over them.

  “What should I do with this?” Beatrice held up the unfurled blanket.

  “Put it over Kristen’s shoulders.”

  The little girl stood and did as he asked. Clint tucked it around her, his face inches from hers as she shivered again. “This will warm you up fast.”

  “I’m f-fine.”

  “Right.” He gave her a wry look, then addressed Beatrice. “Did you get the PowerBar unwrapped?”

  “Uh-huh.” She gave it to him.

  He passed it over to Kristen. “Eat this.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He leaned close again. “Do you want to walk out of here? Because you’re in no condition to do that yet. And you won’t be for quite a while unless you eat something and drink this.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack, twisted off the cap and set it beside her.

  In silence, she took the bar and bit into it.

  By the time she finished the bar and half the bottle of water, her shaking had subsided, her color was more normal and her breathing had deepened.

  “Better.” He studied her, then gentled his voice and touched her cheek, surprised to discover his own fingers were quivering. “You ready to get out of here?”

  “Yes.” Beatrice answered instead, handing him the wrapper from the chocolate candy bar she’d dug out of the backpack at his direction and quickly devoured.

  Kristen managed a smile as she covered his hand with hers where it rested on her cheek. “I am, too.”

  Her words trembled, but the soft look in her eyes told him shock wasn’t the reason for her unsteadiness this time.

  He stayed on one knee beside her, fighting the urge to dip his head and claim the kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. Instead, he settled for a quick brush of his lips over her forehead. That would have to suffice for now—even if her sudden flush tempted him to offer more.

  “Wait a second and I’ll give you a hand up.” He rose, settled his backpack into position on his shoulders and reached down for her. “Take it slow and easy.”

  He drew her to her feet, watching for any sign of dizziness. But she seemed steady enough as he tucked the blanket more securely around her shoulders.

  “I’m okay. I’ll make it. But I wouldn’t mind holding on to an arm.”

  “Not a problem.” He extended it, and with Beatrice on his other side they circled around the lion and made their way back to the trail. Once there, he paused to mark the spot by tying a strip of yellow plastic around a small seedling. Then, as the fog hovered over them, still cloaking the redwoods in a gray shroud, he led them toward the trailhead.

  Much to his relief, Kristen did fine. Though she had to be hurting, she gave no indication of it. Her steps were sure, and she even managed to carry on a sporadic conversation with her daughter.

  He was the one who was suddenly overcome by the shakes—inside, at least. Because with every step they took, it became clearer to him how close he’d come to losing her. She might have been able to fight off the mountain lion for a few minutes, and there was a remote chance she’d have driven him away if he wasn’t too determined.

  But the odds were far greater she’d have ended up dead or badly injured. And Beatrice might have, too.

  The churning in his gut intensified, for
cing him to acknowledge a truth he’d been dodging for weeks.

  Kristen wasn’t just starting to make inroads on his heart.

  She’d already claimed it.

  And as the fog continued to swirl around them, as he worked to keep them on a steady course toward safety, he could only pray that in time she’d come to the same conclusion about him.

  * * *

  “I’ll wait in the living room, Kristen. Good night, Beatrice.”

  “Night, Clint.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute.” Kristen smiled over at the man who’d shown up in the nick of time earlier in the evening, spent hours with her in the emergency room, then driven her home, shared a pizza with them and helped her put a very tired little girl to bed.

  Although Beatrice had just climbed under the covers, her eyes were already drooping. No wonder. It was close to midnight.

  “Good night, honey.” She leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead.

  “Aunt Kristen?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “That mountain lion was really scary today.”

  “Yes, he was.” No sense denying the obvious. But no sense encouraging Beatrice to dwell on it, either. “Everything turned out fine, though, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Beatrice chewed on her lower lip and continued in a smaller voice. “Do you think he would have...eaten us, if Clint hadn’t come along?”

  “Not if I could help it.” Kristen forced her lips into the semblance of a smile. The probability of that scenario was all too real—and still too fresh in her mind. “I used to be a decent softball player, so I know how to swing a bat. He would have gotten a few lumps if he’d tried. Hopefully that would have discouraged him and he’d have run away.”

  But she doubted it. From what she’d read in the brochures Clint had given her that first day in the visitor center, a mountain lion that got that close wasn’t looking to make friends. It was looking for dinner.

  “You might have gotten hurt a lot worse trying to protect me, though.” Faint creases appeared on Beatrice’s brow.

  She smoothed the fine hair back from her daughter’s forehead. “I wouldn’t have cared. I’d do anything to keep anyone or anything from hurting you. And I always will.”

  Beatrice creased the edge of the blanket between her fingers. “My mom and dad always told me that, too.”

  “That’s because when you love someone, you care more about them than you do about yourself.”

  Beatrice’s hands stilled. Then one of them crept toward Kristen and slipped into her grasp. “I care about you, too.”

  The soft words warmed a cold, empty place deep in Kristen’s heart and filled it to overflowing with gratitude. Thank You, God, for that priceless gift.

  “It makes me happy you feel that way, honey.” Clearing the tightness from her throat, she leaned down and once more kissed her daughter. “Now it’s long past your bedtime. Go to sleep, okay?”

  “Are you going to bed, too?”

  “In a little while. I want to talk to Clint first.”

  Now that her daughter was tucked away for the night, she was looking forward to spending a few minutes with the man who had long ago transitioned from landlord to friend—and was rapidly becoming much more than that. And she was also looking forward to sharing with him some of the insights she’d had during the past few hours.

  As she rose to turn out the light, Beatrice yawned and curled up under the covers, her eyes drifting closed. “Would you tell him I care about him, too?”

  “I’ll do that.” Kristen exited into the hall, shutting the door halfway behind her.

  Clint was waiting for her with a mug of herbal tea when she reached the dinette table.

  “I thought about brewing coffee, but you need to sleep tonight.” He smiled as he set the tea on the table and gestured for her to take a seat.

  She eyed his mug and sniffed the distinctive aroma of java. “What about you?”

  “This is instant. And I don’t think I’m going to sleep much, anyway.”

  “I may not, either—no matter what I drink.” She sank into the chair.

  “Those pain pills they gave you should take care of any insomnia.” He took the seat at right angle to her.

  “I don’t know if I’ll take any. This doesn’t hurt that much.” She lifted her arm, but a liberal application of white gauze hid the butterfly bandages and the dozen stitches underneath.

  “It may, once the feeling starts coming back to that area.”

  “I’ll see.” She sipped the soothing tea. “Nice. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You know, I keep trying not to think of what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth chase the chill from her fingers. “But I have a feeling even if I manage to keep that nightmare at bay during the day, it will come back to haunt my sleep.”

  “It may. If it’s any consolation, though, nightmares do fade in time.”

  She reached over and touched the back of his hand, willing him to see the truth of what she intended to say. “Speaking of nightmares—what happened today should help put yours to rest. You saved my life, and probably Beatrice’s. You did what you were trained to do, and you did it fast and accurately without any second-guessing.”

  “Yeah.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I’ve had some of those same thoughts. In hindsight, the whole episode does have a certain redemptive quality. But I’m sorry it came at your expense.”

  “Honestly? I’m just glad it came.” She let her words rest in the air for a moment, wanting him to understand—and accept—that she meant them. “The way I see it, you’ve been through the fire, and now you’ve come out the other side, better than before. Maybe that’s why this outcome was so different.”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “You’re a very insightful woman, Kristen Andrews.”

  She took a sip of tea, summoning up her courage. He’d given her the perfect opening to discuss the second issue on her mind.

  “I have some other insights to share with you, too.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  She tightened her grip on her mug. “Over the past few hours, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching. And I realized that even though I have serious issues to deal with, and Beatrice has to be my top priority for the immediate future, I shouldn’t let the rest of my life slide. I juggle multiple priorities on the job. There’s no reason I can’t do that in my personal life.”

  Leaning closer, she locked gazes with him. “The truth is, you’re one of my top priorities—and I don’t see any reason to tax your patience. If you still want to see where things between us might lead, I say let’s go for it. Because you know what? There’s never going to be a perfect time for romance.”

  A slow smile erased the lingering tension from his face, and he pushed his coffee mug aside. “You won’t get any arguments from me. But what about Beatrice? Do you think she’ll be okay with this?”

  Kristen smiled. “Absolutely. In fact, as I was leaving, she asked me to tell you she cares about you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “I know. That’s another reason I feel comfortable moving forward.”

  “Then I think we need to end the prologue and start chapter one.” He stood, drew her to her feet and pulled her into the circle of his arms. “In deference to your injury, I’ll try to use some restraint. But I warn you—I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. Holding back may be tough.”

  She lifted her bandaged arm out of the way, resting it against his chest, and stepped close enough to see the smoldering embers in the depths of his eyes. “Don’t tax your self-restraint on my account.”

  The embers ignited. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t w
arn you.”

  Smoothing her hair back, he cupped her face with his palms. For several long moments he simply gazed down at her, the unbridled tenderness and devotion in his eyes so intense it robbed her legs of their strength.

  Fortunately, he was holding her fast in the sheltering circle of his arms. The very place she intended to stay—for always.

  When at last he leaned down, she rose on tiptoe, meeting him halfway. And as his lips claimed hers in a kiss filled with longing, love and an ardor that took her breath away, Kristen knew the Orchid Café place mats had it right after all.

  Dreams really did come true in Starfish Bay.

  Epilogue

  Two and a Half Months Later

  “This is the best ice-cream social I’ve ever been to.” Chocolate cupcake in one hand, chocolate ice cream in the other, Beatrice beamed up at Kristen, the sparkle on her fairy-princess-painted face glistening in the late-afternoon sun.

  “I’m glad to hear that. And everybody else seems to be having fun, too.”

  She glanced around the open area on The Point where the interpretive trail for the nature preserve began. The entire population of Starfish Bay seemed to have turned out for the event.

  Lindsey and Nate, along with Scott, Cindy and Jarrod, were watching the magician perform some up-close magic.

  Lindsey’s father, Jack, and Scott’s mother, Barbara, were having an animated conversation over cupcakes and lemonade at one of the tables the inn had set up. According to Genevieve, Jack had grown partial not only to the killer carrot cake Barbara baked for the Orchid, but to the baker herself. The café owner was all atwitter over that developing senior romance.

  Genevieve and Lillian were on hand, of course, licking ice cream cones as they chatted with the mayor and Janice from the art gallery.

  Even Jaz had stolen away from his restaurant for a few minutes to enjoy some ice cream.

  Everyone was here.

  Except Clint.

  “What time is Clint coming, Aunt Kristen?”

  With a smile at her daughter, she checked her watch. “You just read my mind. Holiday weekends are busy at the park, but he promised to get here as fast as he could once his shift ended.”